When You're Through Thinking, Say Yes
by BeGodlyBeLynn
Summary: She swore to herself that nothing and nobody would ever come between her and the line of duty. Shepard made her break that promise, and she tried to hate him-but couldn't. She just found herself loving him even more. DISCONTINUED; overhaul to be published soon.
1. One Year, Six Months

**A/N: I haven't played ME1, so I couldn't do a satisfactory novelization if I tried. Nonetheless, I strongly support the Ashley/Shepard pairing, despite Mark Meer's mediocre voice acting. I just love Ash's character and I feel like there aren't enough fics out there for them. So, here's to Shepley and, well…42****nd**** Street (best musical ever, btw). **

**Shepard stats: Earthborn, Sole Survivor Caleb Sheploo, Soldier Class, Paragade :D **

_So many nights, legs tangled tight__  
__Wrap me up in a dream with you__  
__Close up these eyes, try not to cry__  
__All that I've got to pull me through is memories of you__  
__Memories of you__  
__Memories of you__  
__Memories of you_

_I'm falling into memories of you and things we used to do  
__Follow me there  
__A beautiful somewhere  
__A place that we can share  
__Falling into memories of you and things we used to do_

1: One Year, Six Months

Shepard did not die a happy man.

To Ashley, that was the worst injustice, the worst insult. He'd given so much and gotten so little, and in the end it hadn't mattered worth a damn either way.

The second worst insult was the way the Alliance had treated his funeral.

Seats were reserved for those who would look good on camera, not those who truly cared. That, to her, was the final blow that sent her over the edge. A lot of politicians, including (ironically) Udina, had spoken, sappy and idiotic speeches about how his spirit inspired them all and how he could be a valuable example for all of humanity. It was a joke. Their speeches hadn't even scratched the surface of what was really there.

But, like a good soldier, Ashley said nothing.

She could only watch as, one by one, Shepard's old squad was picked apart. Joker was grounded within a month and fell off the radar a few weeks later. Kaidan was all but forgotten—any mention of him raised eyebrows and led to a "C'mon, skipper, let's get some coffee" from the nearest shrink. The entire crew of the Normandy was broken apart and reassigned, some even given honorable discharges. Tali was shunted back to the Migrant Fleet. Wrex returned to Tuchanka. Liara fell off the grid as well, only to resurface months later in Illium. Garrus tried and failed to become a Spectre, and soon he, too, disappeared.

It was in times like these that Ashley truly doubted her motivations. Was this really the Alliance her father had pledged her life to? Her grandfather? What kind of bullshit was this?

They never found his body, but she knew. She knew from the moment the escape pod had turned up, with only one occupant. It was just a feeling, but she knew and goddamn did it hurt like hell.

That didn't stop her from praying for him. Every night she'd bow her head, clasp her hands, and silently beg whatever God was out there that he could return, unharmed and safe, and fall into her arms. And then she'd cry herself to sleep.

Shortly after Tali left, Ash was chained to a desk. There was hardly any fanfare, just "You're a desk jockey, Williams" and then nothing. Radio silence from everyone, even Anderson—and that pissed her off the most. She thought Anderson had been on Shepard's side. Evidently not.

And so Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams' life fell into miserable monotony, broken only by the sporadic "Shepard sightings" that dotted the media. Though she knew how insanely stupid it was, she felt a little bit of hope every time she saw one, only for her spirits to fall once again when she realized that he looked nothing like Caleb originally did.

The very worst thing, though, came every time she went out for food on the Citadel. The Alliance had started using Shepard's likeness as part of a recruiting campaign, as well as his voice and some action footage. It became so that no matter how hard she tried, she could not erase his face from her mind, or his voice from her memory. It became impossible to move on, and she sank even deeper into that abyss of grief and the feeling of uselessness became more potent with each passing day.

For one year and six months, the ugly cycle continued.

Finally, someone, maybe Anderson or Hackett, woke up and decided to put her out of her misery. Her ass was put back on a battle frigate and sent out to several mundane worlds in the ass end of the Terminus Systems. She saw combat again, and it distracted her from her grieving, if only for a little while, until the gunfire ceased.

Silence became her enemy, sleep even more so. She'd hear Shepard's voice coming from some corner of her mind and try to reach it, only to realize, too late, that it was as far removed from reality as Omega was from the Citadel. She dreamed of him almost every night.

She dimly remembered promising herself that nothing would ever come between her and the line of duty. It seemed like an eternity ago. Those words sounded so hollow now. She cursed herself for bringing herself to this, for letting somebody change her so that she was utterly lost with him gone.

_Is this what my life is gonna be?_ she wondered. _Am I destined to rot in the ass-end of the Terminus, pining for a dead man?_

Ashley Williams grieved long and hard, and reality slipped from her fingers for one year and six months.


	2. Light Up The Sky

_I can't find a wall to pin this to__  
__They're all coming down since I've found you__  
__I just wanna be where you are tonight__  
__I run in the dark looking for some light__  
__And how will we know if we just don't try__  
__We won't ever know_

_Let me light up the sky__  
__Light it up for you__  
__Let me tell you why__  
__I would die for you_

2: Light Up the Sky

The day after Shepard's funeral, Ash was contacted by Tali.

"Wrex, Garrus, Joker, and I agree," she said. "That funeral was a joke. Will you cone with us to the Presidium? We want to give him a proper sendoff."

Ash had agreed, if only for a chance to grieve with friends.

Tali had evidently taken a leaf out of a human book, because when Ashley arrived at the spot she was greeted by a small, simple shrine with a large picture of Shepard's service photo and places for a considerable number of candles.

Quietly, the group of mourners assembled before the shrine. Ash was astounded by the turnout—not only was the entire team minus Liara there, Tali had made contact with an array of people whose lives Shepard had touched: Corporal Toombs, Doctor Michel, Samesh Bhatia, and even Finch, Caleb's old gang member. They were each given candles, and a lighter was passed around to light them. Ash clutched hers so tightly she could feel it crack beneath her fingers.

Tali cleared her throat and spoke up, her voice tightly under control.

"When you put your candle here, you can say something about why," she said. "Well, if you want."

She went first, shakily setting the candle down-a tiny flicker of light that illuminated the bottom corner of the picture. "Because he saved my life," she whispered. "And because he showed me what it's like to have a loving father."

Samesh Bhatia was next. "Because he gave my wife back to me," he said, "and let me give her the sendoff she deserved."

Garrus placed his candle on the shrine. "Because he gave me a chance to put things right."

Doctor Michel came forward. "Because he helped me when I was in no position to ask for any," she said. "And gave me the chance to continue helping people like I do now."

One by one, the candles created a little moat of flickering light at the foot of Caleb's picture, little pinpricks of flame struggling for definition in the darkness, both physical and mental, pressing down on them all. Finally, it was Ashley's turn.

"Because—" Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Her eyes filled with tears and she tried to force them back. "Because...because he made me feel good enough."

She couldn't say anything more than that. She stepped back to join the crowd, barely noticing when Wrex placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. She could only watch as the others placed their candles, murmuring their respects.

Finally, the vigil wound down, and the mourners quietly filed away. Numbly, Ashley followed them. As if she was not quite herself, she made her way to her apartment, unsure of how she'd managed to find the way by herself. Almost blind, she stumbled inside.

When the door closed, the grief took over and she collapsed on her bed, crying. She clasped her shaking hands together and bowed her head, tears falling into her lap.

"Dear God, thank you for bringing us to this day in the glorious world you have created," she whispered. "Have mercy on the innocent and punish the unjust, as is Your duty and Your will. You are a forgiving and fair God, and you will do what is right. Grant me safe passage through whatever trials life may bring me. And if Caleb Shepard is out there, alive, somewhere...grant him safe passage to his friends. See him safely back where he belongs. Amen."

She waited, waited for something, anything to show her that He was listening. When silence bore down on her she sighed sadly and let herself go.

And then she lay down, pulled the pillow over her head, and cried, cried until her ribs ached and her head hurt and she was out of tears and all there was left to do was lie there, thinking of the cold space beside her, empty without his warmth, and miss him.

Eventually, she fell asleep. Ashley didn't quite know when that had happened, but the next thing she knew it was morning. Slowly, she rolled out of bed and went through the motions of starting a new day: brushing her teeth, stripping down, and stepping into the shower.

The hot water coming down on her was a welcome distraction from her cold longing and she closed her eyes, letting the heat burn her sadness away. Finally, the water stopped and she wrapped a towel around herself, dressed, and looked at herself in the mirror.

Shepard had made her feel like maybe she was actually worth something, a valuable asset to the Alliance military that had been denied her full potential. She'd always known this, of course, but Caleb Shepard had been the first person she'd served under to agree with her. Over the course of a few months she'd changed, rounded out into an Ashley Williams that she liked a lot more—a woman who was doing something that mattered, with the respect of her superiors, and had a beautiful, strong man who adored her by her side.

And now it was all gone.

All she could think about was how she was that _girl_, the weak girl she'd always despised, who cried shamelessly and hogged all the hot water, and lit candles for dead people. And she hated Shepard for tearing down her walls and leaving her vulnerable, and she hated the Alliance for their prejudice against her because of her grandfather, and she hated God for his cruelty, for taking Shepard away when he still had so much waiting for him in the galaxy. But most of all she hated herself for letting her guard down, for letting him in, and for thinking that maybe there was something good on the horizon for her.

The worst part was that she couldn't blame anybody but herself.

**A/N: Apologies for the short chapters. I pinky promise they'll flesh out in the future.**

**Special thanks to Made Nightwing and Asha'man X, who are my muses in this lil' piece of heaven. A shout-out also to ITestedGarrussReach, Ember Filled Mist, Siha Shap, and Saetheri for their reviews and support—y'all keep me going in these dark, dark times. :p****Am I forgetting anyone?****Doesn't look like it. Future chapters are in the works. If you can't wait for Mass Effect 3—SOMEBODY SAY YEAH! *YEAH!* :o**


	3. Holly Wood Died

_Hey, let go_  
_Of all you know_  
_And you're running away now_  
_What have you got to lose? _  
_And say, out loud these words I've found_  
_I'll be there when you come down_  
_I'll be waiting for you _

3: Holly Wood Died

* * *

News of Shepard's death brought on an onslaught of media regarding the late commander, both negative and positive. Despite herself, Ashley always took the time to listen to or watch whatever it was that the media had to offer about him, if only for another chance to learn about him and preserve his legacy and see him again. There were faux "Shepard sightings"—horrible, offensive, and always got her hopes up. They'd always come crashing down on her, though, when she realized that they were, as always, shamefully fake. There were scattered news reports on supposedly scandalous things he'd done in the past, like steal crap as a kid and marital infidelity (Shepard had never been married), little things that shouldn't mean jack shit to anyone with half a brain and always pissed her off.

And then there were the obituaries and accounts of people, complete strangers, who had nonetheless been touched by his service, his valor, and his bravery.

She'd expected the media to start cranking out anything and everything about Shepard, anything for publicity and ratings and profit. What she hadn't expected was a visit from somebody who'd known Shepard, perhaps not well, but enough for him to have touched her life.

Ashley had lost track of days by then. All she'd known was that one day she was visited by someone who wanted to pay her respects to one of Shepard's crewmembers.

She introduced herself as Holly Wood, and she was accompanied by her husband. She was young—late twenties or early thirties, and she was hugely pregnant. She'd been on Elysium when the batarians had struck—and when Shepard had made a name for himself as a hero.

"I remember I was in a building with my friend," she recalled. "The batarians had set some charges and the building had started to burn. My friend…she panicked. Threw herself out the window of a third-story building…and died." She dropped her gaze momentarily. "I screamed for help, but nobody seemed to hear me. And then he came to save me.

"Shepard had seen the building, and he'd seen my friend jump. He came for me, and helped me down to the second floor—the ground floor was too hot for anyone without a hardsuit by the time he got there. He told me to jump—told me to jump, and the moment I did, to tuck and roll. His exact words. 'Tuck and roll.'

"I was terrified. I'd seen how Tessa had splattered her brains on the pavement, and I was so scared of the fire, and of dying, but he nodded and he told me, over and over—'_Everything is gonna be alright_.'

He told me he'd catch me, and he did. I remember…I was beside myself. Screaming and crying for my mom and for Tessa, so he picked me up and he took me to a little outpost where some of the colonists were holed up. All the while, telling me…'Everything's gonna be alright.'" The woman looked up to meet Ashley's eyes. "I'm absolutely convinced that if it wasn't for him, I'd be dead," she said in a strong voice. "He died as he lived, ma'am. A selfless hero."

She reached out to squeeze Ashley's hand and smiled at her before continuing. "I'm so very sorry for your loss," she said. "He was a good man, and he sacrificed himself for the galaxy. Not just humans—but the entire galaxy. He inspired me to be a good person, a…a good mother," she patted her stomach, "and he may not have known it but he touched the lives of everyone on Elysium that day."

Ashley didn't know why the woman had come, or how she'd known what Shepard meant to her, or even who she was—but she was grateful that somebody had seen Shepard for what he truly was and had come to perhaps ease her suffering. She thanked her and the couple left, leaving her alone again.

The mugs of tea were forgotten on the coffee table as she buried her head in her hands, staring at her knees. Her vision swam before her eyes and she knew the tears were coming again.

She could hear him now, whispering those four words in her ear.

"Everything's gonna be alright."

"Everything's gonna be alright."

"Everything's gonna be alright."

She wiped the tears away and swallowed hard, her face set as she picked up the mugs and deposited them in the sink. Hands shaking, she reached for a piece of paper and a pen, and wrote the words down.

_Everything's gonna be alright._

_Everything's gonna be alright._

_Everything's gonna be alright._

_Everything's gonna be alright._

_Everything's gonna be alright._

But no matter how many times she wrote the words, she couldn't bring herself to believe. Nothing was going to be alright, not now and not ever. She felt like a derelict ship, broken beyond repair and drifting aimlessly along. Waiting for something to destroy it or strip it down for parts, or maybe to take a shot at fixing it. But they'd fail, and abandon her to the darkness again.

_This isn't healthy_, she screamed at herself. _This isn't healthy. Snap out of it._

She couldn't. She wouldn't. Being in this hole was better than trying to climb out, and letting people watch her fall again…and again… and again.

One of the mugs shattered in her hand—she was clutching it so tightly that it had literally imploded, and now her hands were covered in broken ceramic and blood. Gasping for breath, she turned on the water and held her hand under the icy stream. The water turned crimson but eventually the bleeding stopped, replacing the throbbing and pain with a comforting numbness.

It didn't take long for the rest of her to follow.


	4. Fighting

_I said I'm ok but I know how to lie__  
__You were all that I had__  
__You were delicate and hard to find__  
__Got lost in the back of my mind__  
__And I can never get back, no I never got back__  
__You were not there when I needed to say__  
__I hit the bottom so fast that my head was spinning 'round for days__  
__Now I gotta go it alone__  
__But I will never give up, no I'll never give up_

_What am I fighting for?__  
__There must be something more__  
__For all these words I sing__  
__Do you feel anything_

4: Two Weeks From Twenty

Losing loved ones was no stranger to Ashley Madeline Williams.

When her father died, she'd coped by reading her father's favorite poetry until she knew it by heart, losing herself in the diction and the structure and everything else that made up a poem. Sometimes she'd stay up all night dissecting Tennyson's work, until at last she didn't have to cry herself to sleep anymore.

Now, she did the same, digging up her father's old poetry books with her old annotations in them. Reading gave her a little peace of mind and helped her to escape from her grief, if only for a little while.

Poetry and praying, both in rapid succession, successfully kept Ashley's despair at bay until one day, when she realized that she could no longer recite Tennyson's "Ulysses" by heart.

"_It little profits that an idle king,_

_By this still hearth, among these barren crags,_

_Matched with an agèd wife, I mete and dole_

_Unequal laws unto a savage race,_

_That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not…_"

She stopped. The words that once came so naturally were utterly lost on her.

"_Know not…_"

She started over, hoping that she would remember. But she didn't. She couldn't, and it terrified her. She'd known this poem since she was a kid.

What the hell…

If she were in her right mind, Ashley would have brushed it off and went through the motions of re-memorizing the poem. But what with all that was going on, she was anywhere _but_ in her right mind.

"Why can't I remember?" she found herself saying out loud, to nobody in particular. "Shit."

Frustration took over. She sat down heavily on the couch, reaching for her old poetry books, rifling through the pages until she stopped on the page that held her poem. Well, used to. The page was gone, ripped from the spine. Ashley vaguely remembered a part of her ripping out the page and throwing it away, sometime after someone had died, but she couldn't remember—had it been after her father had died, or after Shepard had died? It was hard to remember. And despite it all she started crying in half-frustration, half-grief, and mostly just infuriated misery that none of her questions were being answered, by anyone.

_Penelope must have done this_, she thought. Penelope, the wife of Odysseus, who'd waited for him for twenty years to come home...her patience had been rewarded. And even though she'd lost hope so many times, her husband had come home.

But that meant that Shepard was going to come back, right?

He had to come back.

She prayed for him that night, the three hundred and sixty-fifth time since he had died.

* * *

"_There. On the monitor—something's wrong._"

A muted voice reached his ears as consciousness slipped back into his extremities. His eyes fluttered open and he turned his head, trying to figure out where he was. A face swam in his vision, impossibly beautiful, incredibly familiar…

"_Ash?_" he croaked. His throat felt parched. His mouth was dry.

And then the pain, waves of it, crashed down on his head, on his body, on his chest. _Am I dead?_ he thought desperately. _Is this hell?_

"_Ash," _he tried again. She was so close—wasn't it Ashley Williams tending to his wounds? No—it had to be…

But it wasn't.

"Shepard! It's okay, you're safe. Don't move, try to stay calm…"

Somewhere far away, an incessant beeping noise grew and became more insistent, and he realized it was his own heart, so this meant he had to be alive…

But who were these people?

The face reappeared and he reached for it desperately, scrabbling for anything to hold onto, anything so that the darkness would not take over.

"Another dose. _Now!" _The woman straightened up and directed her gaze at somebody he couldn't see. Almost immediately, the darkness returned and his senses dulled and then he was gone again, back in that dreamless, empty void.

His hand thudded heavily to his side and Miranda breathed a sigh of relief.

"That was too close. We almost lost him."

The officer cast an irritable look over her shoulder at Wilson, who was still standing by the controls.

"I _told_ you your readings were off. Run the numbers again."

* * *

When Ashley returned to duty, Anderson wasted no time in chaining her to a desk. This was a slap in the face, a betrayal—how could he simply turn her into a desk jockey and forget about her? Did they not care? Did they not give a flying fuck about anything she and Shepard had accomplished? Was this their way of silencing her?

Hours of pent-up frustration were often spent at the bar, where more often than not she walked out with a collection of fresh injuries and a freakish blood alcohol level. Eventually, one particularly nasty incident caught the attention of Anderson.

She was at the bar again, drinking up a storm. There were four empty glasses lined up neatly on the bar in front of her, and the numbness was only beginning to set in. She raised her hand for another drink and dropped her head, staring at the table.

Somewhere across the room, she could hear a group of turians laughing loudly over something. Frowning, she cast them a sidelong glance and listened in.

"…I heard Shepard's entire team has been broken apart now," one of them chortled. "Guess that goes to show how much the Council appreciates his efforts! Ha, ha!"

"Thank the spirits, too," another one chipped in. "I was getting pretty tired of his 'the end is near' rant. Wonder how much red sand the Alliance bought for him?"

More laughter. Before she knew it Ashley was standing, staring daggers at the three turians chuckling in the booth. Her hands were clenched in fists. She strode over just as the first turian took a swig from his glass. With a single vicious swipe of her hand, she sent the glass smashing into his face, along with its contents. He doubled over, cursing and sputtering.

"What the hell?" he demanded, glaring at her. "Who the fuck—wait a minute."

A glint of recognition shone in his eyes as he continued. "I recognize you," he said. "You're that whiny bitch that was on Shepard's squad, right? How's granddaddy's legacy treatin' you?"

"Shut up," growled Ashley.

"Did she just sass me?" The turian exchanged glances with his buddies. "I think she just sassed me."

"That voice of yours is really getting on my _nerves!_" she snarled. At the last word, her fist collided with his face, sending him staggering back onto the table. The other two turians made to strike her, but she kneed one in the crotch and elbowed the other in the jugular.

To their credit, the turians recovered quickly, and the next thing she knew Ashley was collapsed in a pile of broken glass, bleeding. Snarling in anger, she got up and reached for a barstool,

"Thank the spirits, too," another one chipped in. "I was getting pretty tired of his 'the end is near' rant. Wonder how much red sand the Alliance bought for him?"

More laughter. Before she knew it Ashley was standing, staring daggers at the three turians chuckling in the booth. Her hands were clenched in fists. She strode over just as the first turian took a swig from his glass. With a single vicious swipe of her hand, she sent the glass smashing into his face, along with its contents. He doubled over, cursing and sputtering.

"What the hell?" he demanded, glaring at her. "Who the fuck—wait a minute."

A glint of recognition shone in his eyes as he continued. "I recognize you," he said. "You're that whiny bitch that was on Shepard's squad, right? How's granddaddy's legacy treatin' you?"

"Shut up," growled Ashley.

"Did she just sass me?" The turian exchanged glances with his buddies. "I think she just sassed me."

"Shut up, you stupid talking_ bird_," she snarled. Her fist collided with his face, sending him staggering back onto the table. The other two turians made to strike her, but she kneed one in the crotch and elbowed the other in the jugular, sending them reeling. She felt a quiet sense of triumph as she watched them flounder, ignoring the shouted protests of the bartender.

To their credit, the turians recovered quickly, and the next thing she knew Ashley was collapsed in a pile of broken glass, bleeding. Snarling in anger, she got up and reached for a barstool, lashing out at the turians with it. She missed, ludicrously, whether from the rage or the alcohol she had no idea. But then something collided with her head, followed by blinding pain, and she stumbled. Something hot and sticky was running down her face, into her eyes, blinding and stinging her.

In the same moment, her legs gave out under her and she fell to her knees, her head spinning. The world was muted, far-off; in the back of her mind Ash could hear sirens but she didn't quite know where. She felt someone pick her up, and registered the words "anaphylactic shock" before the world went black.


	5. Words, Hands, Hearts

_Can't tell the difference between myth and man  
Or what's necessary or where I should stand_

_So do we tell now  
Raise our voices loud  
We're searching for something that cannot be found  
I hear open mouths  
And I see open hands  
Like the blinded and silent I can't understand_

5: Words, Hands, Hearts

She lost track of time in that cell, still in her dirty uniform covered in blood and vomit and alcohol and whatever else had gotten on her clothes during that barroom brawl. In one word, completely miserable.

If only her father could see her now, Ash reflected bitterly. She wondered what he'd say.

He probably wouldn't say anything. He'd probably just hand her another poetry book and tell her to read the poems until she could get her head screwed on straight. And then he'd go off to his room for some Tennyson and some shut-eye.

Dad was always odd like that, but hell, his methods worked.

If only she had some of her father's expertise now, she thought bitterly. But then she looked up from the ground and her eye caught the mirror.

She was a mess...a year after Shepard died and she was still getting drunk, trying to memorize poems, and praying to someone who probably wasn't there. She was still acting like…a freakin' girl! Disheveled hair, bloodshot eyes, gaunt face…she was nothing like the beautiful soldier Caleb had fallen for a lifetime ago.

What had she become?

With a furious cry, she slammed her fist on the floor. _This is what I get for letting my guard down for five seconds! What the fuck have I become?_

The door opened, jerking her from her reverie. Ash looked up just in time to see Anderson come in, brushing a C-Sec cadet off his shoulder as he did.

"Admiral," she said, her voice raw from disuse. He nodded curtly and stood in front of her, his face unreadable.

"Williams," he said after a long pause. "I can't pretend I know what you're going through."

She was silent.

"I can't pretend I know what it was like to watch the Normandy explode before your eyes. But it's time to move on, Ashley. It's time to pull yourself together and move on."

She mumbled something and Anderson frowned.

"What was that, Williams?"

"…I don't want to move on."

Sighing, Anderson sat down next to her. "What would you have me do?" he asked. "I can't bring him back. I know you're angry, and I know you're hurting, but you need to pick yourself up. No more bars, no more drinking, no more fights. Pull yourself together, or pack your things. It's your choice."

Anderson got up and walked out.

"Screw you," Ashley growled, her eyes on the door that had closed behind him. He knew nothing. He didn't know a fucking thing.

_a few weeks later_

Eighteen.

Nineteen.

Twenty.

Twenty-one.

_Twenty-two…_

With a hoarse cry, Ashley dropped from the bar, sweating and panting. Twenty-two. Still nowhere near her best record of forty. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and sat down heavily on the bench. It was still better than fifteen and much better than getting drunk and fighting in a bar. She felt like her stress was rolling off her in the beads of sweat that came from her skin. The working out and the eating like a normal person had done a lot for her, both inside and out. She'd manage to banish her demons—for how long was still a hanging question. But it was a healthy solution, and Ashley dove for it.

By the end of the week, she'd returned to a semblance of her former self—still weighed down by grief, but not as much as she had been just a month ago. All was well, or so it seemed.

But when she didn't have the working out or the work to distract her, Ashley felt the sting in full force. She'd long given up trying to drag herself out of the hole. Resistance was futile. She could only hope that she'd come out of it eventually, when she was ready. Hell, she'd even started memorizing "Ulysses" again.

Ashley looked at the calendar that hung in her room. If the count was still right, it had been one year and two months since Shepard had gone down with his ship. She sighed. Before she could stop herself, she started thinking about what things might have been like if he hadn't died.

Liara wouldn't have disappeared, she thought. He would've gotten maybe some credibility from the Council. Tali would still be with them, never to finish her Pilgrimage until it was all over. Hell, the entire crew would still be together. It would be so much better…maybe.

She thought about everyone else on the crew. Yes, Shepard's death had shaken them all, but was anyone grieving as long and hard as she was? She doubted it. That would make her the only one still crying, the only weak link…

_No._ She refused to go down that train of thought again.

Instead, she closed her eyes, and thought of her sisters at home. It had nothing to do with her present situation. It would do.

_two months later, Lazarus Station_

"…Shepard's physical reconstruction is almost finished. His medical history, service history, and personal history are under extreme scrutiny—we're looking for anything we might miss. Per the Illusive Man's instructions, we aim to bring him back exactly as he was one year ago, but it's not going to be easy. If anything changes—if by some error Shepard is not the man he was a year ago—the Lazarus Project will be a failure. I still think that we should install a control chip in his brain—he has his own opinions about Cerberus. We can't let such a valuable asset go to waste."

Miranda stopped the recording and turned off the laptop, sighing and burying her face in her hands. A lot of stress came with this job. She hadn't slept in days, making sure that every physical detail about Commander Shepard was spot-on, from the color of his eyes to the mole on his right forearm to…ugh. Those other places she'd rather not think about—those had been the worst.

What she wouldn't give for a cup of coffee.

As if to answer her prayers, someone set a steaming mug of coffee next to her laptop before moving to her shoulders, gently massaging them and kneading away all the knots. She didn't need to look up to know who it was.

"Jacob," she mumbled into her hands. "You must have read my mind."

He chuckled. "You look like you need some," he said. "Among other things." He kissed her on the cheek briefly. "How's Shepard doing?"

She sighed and leaned into his touch. "It's not going so bad, frankly. I think we might just be done by the end of this year. If we can get everything right…" Miranda looked up at Jacob. "Do you think this is right?" she asked. "Bringing back the dead?"

Jacob shrugged. "I have my doubts, too," he admitted. "You know how I feel about the Illusive Man…but I also feel that he's our only shot at stopping whoever's after these human colonies."

Miranda smiled softly. "That used to be what I'd say," she murmured. "What's changed?"

"Nothing," he replied. "You're the same old you."

There was silence between them. Miranda gazed at the empty screen, her coffee untouched.

Finally, Jacob's voice broke the silence.

"We've got to stop this, you know," he said at last. He said those words as if someone'd had to force them out his throat. They hurt all the same.

Miranda closed her eyes sadly. "I know," she whispered.

She felt a gutwrenching pang as his fingers slipped from hers. He turned back once.

"Look, Miranda…"

She didn't look.

"I'm really sorry."

As Miranda sipped her coffee, she ran over Shepard's records once more. _I must not fail,_ she told herself. _Especially now._

**A/N: Sorry for the late update! I've been bogged down with other delightful busy-work. Unfortunately, new chapters will be slow in the making. *sad face* Hope you're enjoying this so far!**


	6. Miles Apart

**A/N: Throughout this story (and many of my others), I have taken copious leaves from the books of esteemed Fanfiction writers such as Made Nightwing, Cressida Isolde, and Herr Wozzeck. Thank you so much, guys, for being my muses, even if you didn't realize it. Thanks especially to Brendan, whose brilliant mind and witty quotes have kept me going—on the web, and without it. And to the rest of you…please please PLEASE check out these guys' work. Seriously, it's like…gold. **

**One more thing! Each of my chapters so far has been named after a song by Yellowcard, the best band in existence. Please do listen to the respective songs. I find that many of them, including this one, tie well into the Shep/Ashley relationship dynamics. And…well, every other one, too. :D

* * *

**

_We'll be miles apart__  
__I'll keep you deep inside__  
__You're always in my heart__  
__A new life to start__  
__I may be leaving but you're always in my heart_

_I'd give it up for just one more day with you__  
__Give it up for just one more day__  
__I'd give it up for just one more day with you_

6: Miles Apart

"What's chewing at you, Gunny? You've been awfully quiet lately."

Ash jerked herself out of her reverie and found herself looking at Sergeant Brendan Steele, who was eyeing her with a mix of intrigue and concern. She blinked and rapidly composed herself, any notion of sleep gone in an instant.

"Wha—nothing really, why?" She frowned, rubbing her eyes.

Steele shrugged. "Nah, it's just…you usually talk more. Something on your mind?"

"Not really…just glad to be back in the field is all."

The sergeant chuckled dryly. "You better eat those words, Gunny. This mission may have plenty of gunfire involved, but it sure isn't important and it sure isn't a good use of our time."

"What makes you think that?"

"Look at our squad, Williams." Steele dropped his voice. "Good soldiers, yes, but not model soldiers—misfits, misdemeanors, and the like. That's what they send out here to fight batarians. We're not doing anything. The Alliance just wants to get rid of us."

Ash snorted. "You can't possibly believe that."

He crossed his arms. "Are you telling me you've never once doubted the motives of the Alliance? Come on, Ash, judging by who your grandpa is, you'd have to have some idea."

She bristled. Talk of her grandfather always pissed her off. "Yeah," she said hotly. "But I'm over complaining about the Alliance. If they want to send me to the Terminus, so be it. They'll see my worth someday."

"Like Shepard?"

…

It took a few moments for the words to sink in, but when they did, she got really pissed off.

"Don't go there, Steele. Just drop it."

"Fine." He turned away.

She sighed and turned back to the window, watching the stars. There was some truth to Steele's words, she knew. The mission in the Terminus was completely pointless, seeing as it was not really of any interest to the Alliance anyway and the batarians there were not in the Skyllian Verge. According to Anderson, it was a "geth mop-up operation" executed in conjunction with "Citadel forces," but they hadn't seen any thus far.

It had been almost a week since Ash had gotten this new assignment. The constant gunfire and combat was a welcome distraction from her own sulking, but as soon as it was over she always fell back into that goddamn pit of despair. Several times she had considered taking her own life, until realizing how incredibly cowardly that was and furiously tossing the pistol down the incinerator. Consequently, the CO was always puzzling over the increasing shortage of hand weapons.

Frankly, she felt kind of bad about blowing Steele off. He was a nice guy in all honesty, Earthborn like her, and a soldier at heart—he knew where his loyalties lay. But Shepard…he was still a tender point for her. She just didn't want to think about it if she didn't have to.

Two years had passed since Shepard's death, and Ashley felt like she was better than she had been a few months ago. Back in the line of duty, serving humanity…no matter how obscure or pointless the mission seemed, being able to have an assault rifle back in her hands was more than enough for her.

Or so she thought.

* * *

_meanwhile, at the Lazarus Station_

Miranda's head was on her desk, her raven-black hair a mess around her face. She wasn't sleeping, not really, but she wasn't awake. An empty mug of coffee was lying at her feet, and her right arm was splayed over her dormant keyboard.

She knew she should be awake and watching Shepard, but in all honesty…she was just stretched far too thin. Not only did she have to worry about Shepard and every little detail being spot-on, but Miranda was having a hard time not thinking of Jacob.

_Don't get me wrong_, she thought. _Jacob is a good man. I just don't want to be distracted right now._

The other side of her disagreed. _Yes, he's a good man—so why let him go? He's a soldier, he's bred to be stoic…there's no problem in letting yourself unwind a little. Besides, the project is almost over._

_The project ends, and then what? I still have to investigate those colonies—there's too much to worry about. The job comes first._

_Or does it? _countered her other side. _Maybe you're just afraid of letting your guard down. Maybe your father did do more than mess with your genes._

Before she could pursue this train of thought further, an explosion suddenly rocked her cabin and Miranda fell off her chair, suddenly fully awake. Eyes wide, she instinctively reached for her sidearm while powering up her biotic barrier. Just in time, too, just as a bullet slammed into the back of her shields. She whipped around to see a LOKI mech advancing towards her with its weapon out and, evidently, very, very hostile. Two well-placed shots quickly ended its life.

A simple glance out the window told Miranda enough to deduce that security was going haywire. The security mechs were tearing apart her staff, and not just LOKIs or FENRIS mechs either—a YMIR mech was having its way with Haddon and Anders in the mess hall below her. And without having to think about it, she knew what they were after.

_Shepard._

She had to protect him. It was second nature, like a mother defending her pups—she hadn't spent so much time on him to lose him now! If she could just wake him, and guide him to the evacuation bay…they had been working for two years. His organ systems were all functional, and his brain…well, it would have to be left to chance. His memories were intact, but only if everything had gone according to plan. Too much of it was hypothetical, but there was no time to waste. Before she could stop herself, Miranda turned on the mike and spoke to the man lying on the gurney in the med bay.

"Wake up, Commander."

His eyelids fluttered and he stirred a little, but didn't wake up.

"Shepard, wake up! This facility is under attack!"

Shepard's eyes snapped open, and even from this distance she could tell that they were the right color—a pale blue—and felt a quiet sense of achievement. But they weren't out of the woods yet.

"There's a set of armor and a pistol in the locker. Hurry!"

She watched as he obeyed her, and nodded in satisfaction. He was functional, at least. As her eyes roved around the room, she was able to register a burning gas can near the door. Her eyes widened in panic.

"That gas can is going to blow! Get into cover!"

Her words came not a moment too soon—the moment Shepard dove behind cover, the canister exploded, raining shrapnel down all over the place, but, thankfully, not on him. She turned to her laptop and tapped into the station's security feed, guiding Shepard through the station. Just as she directed him to a grenade launcher, however, she registered an explosion that sounded much too close for comfort. Heart pounding, she turned around.

Evidently, the heat shielding on the door hadn't been enough to stop the mechs. She turned just in time to see a FENRIS mech come around the corner and shot it, trying to keep an eye on Shepard's progress all the while. She spoke into the comm again, trying to direct Shepard down the hall, but he appeared not to hear.

"Shepard! I've got mechs closing in on my position! Make your way to—"

The screen went black. Cursing, Miranda opened her desk drawer, grabbing as many thermal clips as she could, and looked around the corner down the hall. She would have to trust Shepard to make it to the evac bay alive—maybe he would run into other survivors and be able to meet up with her later—but she had her own problems now.

"_Hostile detected."_

Miranda blindly fired a Warp in the direction of the synthesized voice and smiled wryly when she heard the resounding crunch of metal shattering. She kept moving, stepping over bodies and avoiding fires, searching for anyone who was still alive.

A movement caught her eye and Miranda saw Wilson, running towards the opposite door. She broke into a run, calling his name.

Wilson turned, and in an instant she realized she'd made an incredibly bad decision. Something changed in his eyes as he raised his pistol and fired. Miranda staggered back and barely missed the burning pipe that crashed down from the wall, blocking her way to freedom. Through the haze of the fire, she could see him run away, frantically typing something on his omni-tool.

What the hell was he doing?

A hail of gunfire assaulted her barrier, effectively wiping any other thoughts from her mind as Miranda turned around to meet six LOKI mechs advancing on her from the hallway. She fired up her omni-tool and overloaded their systems. Three of them dropped right there, their circuits fried, but the other half kept coming. Miranda fired into the crowd, relying on her instincts and genes to place every bullet where she wanted it. Just as the last mech fell, she went down the way she'd come, looking for an opening.

The glass.

She ran over to it, looking into the med-bay, and realized that it was clear. If she could just—

"Hostile detected. Neutralizing."

Fuck, _again?_

Miranda recognized the synthetic bass of a YMIR mech and knew that if she didn't run, soon, she'd be in deep shit. With a cry of pain and fear, she tumbled to the ground as it opened fire. The glass shattered behind her and she seized the opportunity to jump, landing hard and rolling on the cold metal floor. Gasping for breath, she picked herself up and sat down heavily on the gurney, assessing her damage. She hadn't broken anything, which was a relief. She coughed dryly and reloaded her pistol, and in the brief time she had to gather her wits, she was suddenly no longer the surprised and panicked Cerberus officer, but cool, collected Miranda Lawson. Now, there were only two things running through her mind.

First, she had to get out of here.

And secondly, she would kill Wilson for what he'd done.


	7. Cut Me, Mick

**A/N: Okay, I'm majorly picking up the pace. An incredible idea popped into my mind and I just couldn't let it go, so…yeah. I'm doing my best to get into the heads of our favorite femmes fatales, Ashley and Miranda, so please please please tell me if I'm doing a good job. Like I say, never played ME1. Long live the save editor! XD**

**Anything else? Oh yeah, please review. All subscriptions and no reviews make for a very discouraged Lynn, which in turn leads to way slower updates. ^_^ You get my drift. Please leave a review, I love feedback like I love root beer.**

_You are the one that I need  
You know that I can still bleed  
Bring me back to life  
Bring me back to life  
You bring me down from my cloud  
__You keep my feet on the ground  
__Bring me back to life  
__Bring me back to life_

7: Cut Me, Mick

"Bloody hell, do these things ever stop coming?"

Ash shrugged and grumbled to herself, lobbing a grenade into the fray of varren. The blast briefly scattered the creatures, but then they started coming again, teeth dripping and snarling for blood.

"Gunny, get to higher ground!"

She looked up to see Steele perched on a rock overhang, too high for the varren to reach and sheltered enough to protect from a pouncing predator. However, it was also too high for Ashley, clad in full armor with an impressive array of weapons, to climb.

"I can't!" she shot back, backpedaling towards him all the same. God dammit, if she died here…

"Give me your hand!" he shouted, reaching down as low as he dared. She looked at him dubiously.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "Hell if I'm going to let you die because of me."

He nodded. "Come on, dammit!"

She shrugged and reached up for his hand, catching his wrist, and he returned the grip to haul her up next to him, but she was too heavy, or he was too light, because the next thing she knew Ashley was on her back with Brendan on top of her, winded, and the varren getting closer with each passing second. Shit, shit, shit…

The adrenaline kicked in and she hauled the sergeant over her shoulder, breaking into a run. She didn't have a destination, yet, but Ash was running in the general direction of the UT-47 Kodiak Drop Shuttle they'd left a quarter mile back. Steele started struggling as soon as he got his breath back, shouting at her to put him down so he could run by himself. She just kept running, trying not to think of the fact that they were supposed to be mopping up geth, and were getting their asses handed to them by a couple of varren…

The weight disappeared from her shoulder and Ash turned around just in time to see that, accident or not, she'd dropped Steele and he was struggling to get back to his feet with a varren's teeth latched onto his arm. He cried out in pain, trying to shake it off, and it managed to score its claws across his face. Despite everything, he screamed as blood tricked into his eyes, blinding his vision. Thinking fast, she emptied her pistol into the creature and it fell limp, dead. She wasted no time in pulling the sergeant to his feet. He wiped the blood from his face the best he could, and they started running again.

Even though it was only a quarter mile, it felt like an eternity before the shuttle finally came into view. They slammed the door shut just as the varren reached them, bloodthirsty and menacing.

"Holy shit," gasped Brendan, leaning back against the bulkhead. "What the fuck was that shit?"

"How did we not know this place was overrun with varren?" demanded Ash. "Didn't even see them coming until we were in a choke point with virtually no escape." She powered up her omni-tool and applied some medi-gel to his arm and face. "You okay, Sarge?"

"I'll be okay," he said breathlessly. He cracked a smile. "I'll have a wicked scar coming out of this, now. Chicks dig scars."

"Some chicks," Ash corrected him. "Doesn't do much good if you look like Freddy Krueger."

"Freddy Krueger has nothing on me."

"Mmhmm," she said distractedly, still working on his injuries. "You're lucky these aren't infected," she informed him.

He shrugged. There was a long silence as he watched her dress his arm. Finally, his eyes lit on something she'd missed and he motioned to her leg.

"You're bleeding," he told her.

"What?" Ash looked down. He was right—a varren had managed to get its teeth into her leg, which was now bleeding profusely. "Shit. I didn't even notice that." She powered up her omni-tool again, but Steele beat her to the punch.

"Let me," he said. She nodded, too tired to argue, watching as he waved his omni-tool over her leg. She sighed in relief as the numbness took over.

* * *

"Garrus?"

The turian turned around to see Shepard standing rather awkwardly in the doorway, his eyes anxious. "Commander. What can I do for you?"

"Well…" His eyes hit the ground momentarily. "I wanted to ask you about Ash."

Garrus sighed. He should've known that Caleb would ask about her. Even before they had finally gotten together, it had been evident to everyone how much they cared for each other. Now, he was wondering whether he should lie and say he knew nothing, or just tell him the truth.

"She fell apart without you, Commander," he said finally. "She never broke down, not in public and never for anyone to see, but her eyes were always bloodshot when I saw her. I guess it's safe to say she cried every night. And then…well, she just kind of disappeared."

"Do you know where she is now?" he asked anxiously.

"No," Garrus told him apologetically. "I'm sorry."

Shepard nodded dejectedly. "It's fine. Thank you, Garrus."

"Shepard."

The commander left.


	8. Way Away

_Way away from here I'll be  
Way away, away so you can see  
How it feels to be alone and not believe  
Anything_

_Letting out the noise inside of me  
every window pane is shattering  
Cutting off my words before I speak  
This is how it feels to not believe_

8: Way Away

Despite his reservations about Cerberus, Miranda quickly recognized the value Shepard carried for humanity and the exact impact the Lazarus Project would have on the species' deliverance.

He was a capable leader, able to sway even the most vicious, the most dangerous, and the most unhinged of people to see his way. Charismatic, caring, and excellent in combat, the Commander was undeniably the best asset Cerberus had in its arsenal, even if he was less than willing. Nonetheless, he put his personal doubts aside and allowed himself to work with herself, Jacob, and the rest of the Cerberus crew, deciding instead to focus on the fate of the human colonies in the Terminus Systems. Miranda privately wondered if this was the mindset he had taken when making the decision to save the _Destiny Ascension_.

But aside from his superior leadership skills, she had to admit that he was, well…handsome. Despite the scarring from the cybernetics, there was something about Shepard's confidence and leadership that she found madly alluring. His motives were pure. In a way, it reminded her of Jacob. Always willing to do the right thing, no matter the cost. He was built like the quintessential soldier. Even without the military cut, the stubble, and the muscle, his blue eyes screamed, "Don't fuck with me."

Miranda had to keep telling herself that she was only admiring her own handiwork. She had rebuilt him, after all; two years of her brains and sweat and Cerberus's money had gone into his resurrection. But the other part of her insisted that she was definitely admiring something else about him. She stubbornly pushed the thought down.

She had Collectors to worry about.

* * *

Anderson was getting old.

In truth, the Rear Admiral was only forty-eight years old, but in his line of work, one aged quickly.

Especially when things had transpired as they did.

For the two years following Shepard's death, there had been rumors that he was not, in fact, dead, but instead pursuing endeavors that required the utmost secrecy. Some said that he was on a high-priority mission for the Council, infiltrating the Batarian Hegemony. Some said that he was working for the enemy, Cerberus, plotting a coup d'etat on the Council to bring humans in control of the galaxy's political future. Others speculated that he'd gone on some sort of solo sojourn to Rannoch to make peace between the quarians and the geth, given his supposed relationship with the quarian who had been on his team while hunting Saren. A thousand more ridiculous speculations had emerged. Anderson hadn't believed a single one.

And now, the Commander stood before him in the flesh, eyes flashing indignant and demanding answers.

"Dammit, Anderson," Caleb groaned. "What can you tell me about Ashley?"

The older man averted his gaze, staring across the water. _The drinking…the fighting…the anaphylactic shock…Shepard, you don't want to know._

Nor did he have the nerve to tell Shepard that Ash had returned to her former stature, the remaining legacy of a general who had shamed them all, shunted out to the Terminus. Out of sight, out of mind…at least, that had been the Alliance's mindset.

Anderson wished that he could tell Shepard that he'd been behind Ashley—and him—the whole way, but it was a lie. Even with his newly attained Council seat, he had been unable to convince the Councillors of the Reapers' existence; eventually he had given up. When Ashley had been chained to a desk, he had not intervened until the final incident at the bar. The most he had really done was push for an extended search for the Commander's body.

So he said nothing.

"Do you know where she is now?" he pressed.

Anderson shook his head again. "She's on a mission in the Terminus, but I can't tell you more than that. It's classified."

Caleb only nodded. Anderson knew that he didn't believe it, but it was partly true. Information on Ashley's mission was classified, but it wasn't information he couldn't access. As a Spectre, Shepard could probably get the information himself if he wanted…but he didn't bring that up.

Instead, he took Shepard's words in silence, praying that he had not made a mistake. He already had too much on his conscience.

* * *

Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams sat in the briefing room, knees drawn up to her chest on a chair. Though her eyes were on the CO, walking around the room with a laser pointer in hand, her mind was elsewhere.

Steele was sitting next to her, his feet propped up on the chair in front of him. He wasn't even pretending to pay attention to Commander Walsh, instead displaying a profound interest in his fingernails. She sneaked a glance at him and he winked back at her, smirking just a little. She looked away.

It wasn't as if any of it mattered, anyway. It was always the same drill. _We've got batarians here, here, and here. Be careful, men, and I'll take the next half hour to prove to you that the stars shine out of my arse with my intensive knowledge on batarians. Best listen up, because this will be you someday._

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Ash found herself wandering into uncharted territory that she'd taken extra precautions to stay out of, the Land Of What Could Have Been.

_Stop right there, soldier!_

It was too late.

In her mind's eye, Ashley had finally been promoted for her exemplary work in defeating Saren. Now she was an Operations Chief, eligible for further training if she so desired. Of course she did, thank you very much, Admiral. Time for intensive training and then back to Shepard's team, convincing the Council that the Reapers existed. They'd found the Prothean VI intact, and shown it to the Council. The Council races were making a concerted effort to safeguard against the Reapers now, no longer waved off as the fantasies of one human Spectre. Sarah had finished college and was enlisted in Alliance intel now, preferring to take a more covert approach to working towards safeguarding humanity. The Williams sisters had managed to find the time for a reunion on Earth, where Ash had introduced her sisters to Caleb. They had expressed their shock that she'd break regs like that, but had accepted her choice.

"Williams…snap out of it, party's over." A voice permeated her thoughts. Pulled abruptly back into reality, Ash opened her eyes and realized that she had buried her face in her knees, pulled tightly up to her chest. Brendan was standing next to her, a concerned hand on her shoulder.

She uncoiled and shrugged off his hand, getting up and brushing past him as she headed for her quarters. She could feel his eyes on her back like daggers.

* * *

Ashley couldn't sleep. Her left arm dangled over the side of the bed, clutching a copy of Romeo and Juliet. She stared up at the bunk above her, where Corporal Smith was surely fast asleep by now. To her right, Private Katarina Hilton was curled up in the fetal position, her lips mouthing something as she dreamed.

She sighed and closed her eyes, trying to tempt sleep. But it was useless; there was no getting any shut-eye in her position. She couldn't stop thinking of What Could Have Been.

Ashley and her sisters had made a pact long ago that they would never, ever venture into such territory. Thinking of What Could Have Been was a waste of time and only brought about more pain when the person realized that nothing would ever come of thinking of What Could Have Been. But, like her promise to let nothing come between her and the line of duty, it had been broken. Ash reminded herself to give Shepard a good one in the face if she ever saw him again, for breaking all these promises.

* * *

**A/N: ****Fair warning, updates will probably get a whole lot slower once the next school year swings by. So I'm going to take this time to squeeze in whatever chapters I can, provided that my muse is kind. She is a fickle bitch.**


	9. Date Line, I Am Gone

**A/N: Okay, so I changed the chapter title. "Cosmic Love" just didn't fit the mood of this story, as Noobbody kindly pointed out. :)**

_Safe upon the other side  
Of the international dateline  
I landed in a place that you can't find  
You can't find me there  
You can't find me there_

_When you hold one chance_  
_And you break your hands_  
_When the secret's safe_  
_And you call my name_  
_When the hurt gets real_  
_And you still can't feel_  
_When you can't escape_  
_And you cannot stay_  
_Then I am gone_

9: Date Line (I Am Gone)

"Williams!"

Ash looked up. Commander Walsh was standing in the doorway, holding a datapad. She snapped into a salute, resisting the urge to scowl when his eyes swept appreciatively over her frame before nodding that she could relax. Shepard had never done such things.

He handed her the datapad. "You've been reassigned," he told her. "Some colony in the Terminus. A shuttle's going to pick you up in twenty; get your things ready in ten. They'll brief you on the way there."

She looked it over, her eyes ghosting over the name of the colony. She didn't know it yet, but what happened on that colony would change her life forever.

HORIZON

Nodding mutely, Ash turned back to her quarters. Walsh's gaze burned into her arse for a few seconds more, and then he was gone. She smiled wryly. Pretty soon, she'd never have to put up with him again.

It was a blessing she would call a curse in only a few days' time.

=(^.^)=

"So you're getting re-deployed, huh?" Steele asked nonchalantly.

They were sitting in the barracks now, trying to locate Ashley's lost sock. She was a bit of a stickler of having all her socks with her whenever she traveled. (Her father had told her plenty of horror stories about socks and Pacific warfare in World War II.)

Ash shrugged. "Yeah," she said. "Some colony in the Terminus. They want an Alliance liaison," she said. The last part was only partly true. By what Ashley had been able to tell from the information she'd been given thus far, Horizon was on a watch list of colonies that could be targeted by Cerberus.

He chuckled dryly. "Wish I could get off this ship," he grumbled.

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Sucker."

Brendan flicked a sock at her. "Shut up."

She caught the sock and got up to leave. "Well, I've got a shuttle to catch," she told him. "It was a pleasure serving with you, Sergeant."

She offered a hand and he took it. "Likewise, Gunny."

She felt him press something into her hand. When she pulled her hand away, she saw that it was a small memchip. Ash plugged it into her omni-tool. It was an extranet number.

Smiling slightly, she jogged to the shuttle bay.

=(^.^)=

"Chief Williams," greeted the man at the shuttle. "Lieutenant Commander Rohleen. I'm glad you could make it."

Ash shook his hand and joined him on the UT-47 Kodiak Drop Shuttle. She strapped herself in as Rohleen did the same; the doors hissed shut. There was a soft mechanical hum as the shuttle lifted off and out of the hangar doors. They were under way.

"Okay, Williams—ETA is in twenty minutes so I'll be brief. I'm sure this is a bit of a surprise to you, but this came up rather suddenly and you are the perfect candidate."

Swallowing her misgivings down, Ash nodded.

"You're to be stationed on Horizon, a colony on a garden planet in the Iera system. I'm sure you're familiar with the disappearance of the human colonies."

She nodded again.

"We've gotten a tip that this colony may be next," he said. "Act as the Alliance liaison to them, and keep your eyes peeled for Cerberus activity. We suspect that Cerberus is behind this."

Ash raised an eyebrow. "Cerberus, huh? Are you sure?"

"We can't be sure of anything unless it happens," Rohleen said. "That's why you're there."

"Will I be getting backup?"

"Only if anything goes awry."

Ash nodded, looking out the window. She didn't like this already.

* * *

"Commander? What can I do for you?"

Shepard recognized the clipped Australian accent of Miranda Lawson and blinked, realizing that he was in her office. Whoa. He'd been pretty out of it lately, and it was a bit odd that he'd managed to end up here.

He realized that she was looking expectantly at him, waiting for an answer. Sure that he was blushing, he shrugged. "Got a minute to talk?"

"Certainly," she said. "I'm just wrapping up a report for the Illusive Man. What's on your mind?"

"Mostly the mission," Shepard replied. He sat down in the chair opposite her. "I don't see why the Illusive Man would pour 4 billion creds into me to send me on a suicide mission. It seems like a waste of money. He could've invested it in a small army instead.

"We do have a small army," Miranda pointed out. "At least, a small army in the making. Besides, the Illusive Man thought you were worth it. _I_ thought you were worth it."

She fell silent, carefully replaying her last words in her head. Slowly, a faint blush crept up her face.

"I mean—" God, she felt like an idiot. "I meant that…never mind."

Caleb was watching her, a bemused smile playing ever so faintly at his lips. There was a long, awkward silence.

"Something tells me we aren't on a suicide mission per se," he said, breaking the silence. "If he didn't expect us to survive, then why would he spend so much to bring me back?"

"Money is not an issue for Cerberus," Miranda said quickly. Maybe a little too quickly. "We've got a healthy number of sponsors…"

She stopped when she saw his face darken. She had to remind herself that he didn't think too kindly of Cerberus or their actions.

"How did you come to join Cerberus?" he asked. "With your talents, surely you could have found a healthy posting elsewhere." He didn't say it, but she knew what he meant. _Why would you waste your talents with a terrorist organization?_

"I'd heard of them through my father's dealings," she told him. "He was very sympathetic of their agenda, and donated quite a bit to them. When I left home, it was the logical place to go."

"The Alliance? The Citadel?"

She shook her head. "They would have sent me back."

"You had it rough growing up?" Shepard asked. Maybe they did have something in common.

"In a manner of speaking."

"Care to elaborate?"

She eyed him cautiously. Yes, she could probably trust him. Even if she couldn't, Miranda found herself surprisingly willing to divulge the details of her childhood with him.

"I was not born," she began. "Naturally, that is. My father engineered me from a copy of his own genome, modified to be genetically perfect. The looks, brains, biotics…everything I have now came from his pocket. In essence, I was a clone. I was not the first, and I know that I won't be the last.

"He didn't want children as much as he did a dynasty," she continued. "I think it's funny, really, that all his 'children' were girls…in a way, it shows how manically egotistical he was, I guess. He was always pushing me to be better, pushing me beyond reason. I was not allowed to have a life…from day one, I was honed to be a supersoldier. A biotic wunderkind.

"When I ran away, he sent his forces after me. It wasn't a child they were looking for…no, it was an investment. A runaway investment…Cerberus offered me their protection in exchange for my service. I accepted. He didn't dare cross Cerberus, but he did withdraw his financial support for them."

"And the rest is history," Shepard joked.

Miranda chuckled. "I wish." Catching the look on his face, she playfully stuck out her tongue. "Joking."

Caleb found himself laughing, and for the first time in weeks it was like a great weight had been lifted off his chest. He regarded Miranda with a new eye. This wasn't some Cerberus ice queen he was talking to.

She, too, was human. Or (so as not to be racist) _sentient._

It helped. He would never admit it, but it helped a great deal.

* * *

"Who's that?"

Ashley's head snapped up. She turned around to see Lilith, one of the colonists, looking over her shoulder. There was a playful glint in her eyes.

Ash slipped the holo back in her pocket, scowling a little. "Nobody."

"He looks like he's military," she pressed on. "Come on, he doesn't look so bad."

She rolled her eyes. "Lilith, drop it."

"Oh, I see how it is," Lilith said slyly. "Well, make sure to hurry up and make a move. Face like that, he won't stay single for long." She winked at her and stepped out.

Ash watched the colonist go, fighting the urge to smile. Lilith reminded her of Sarah, cheerful and hormonal and always teasing her about someone or the other. Shaking her head, Ash took out the holo again.

The immaculate face of Sergeant Steele gazed back at her and she smiled, as if he could see her, too.

* * *

**A/N: I bring good news! The entire storyline has been mapped out like the Washington D.C. metro in Fallout 3! This means that even if writer's block does strike, I have an insurance policy. **

**That was my attempt at injecting some chemistry into this fic. Tell me how I'm doing, because I'm completely clueless. :p**


	10. Gifts and Curses

10. Gifts and Curses

_I see your face with every punch I take__  
__And every bone I break, it's all for you__  
__And my worst pains are words I cannot say__  
__Still I will always fight on for you_

HORIZON  
FEBRUARY 18, 2185

"How are the GARDIAN weapons coming along?" asked Ashley casually, walking over to the mechanic. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

The man looked up briefly from his work, scowling. "There is," he said acidly. "We don't need your ilk around to help. You should probably just call your precious Alliance boys and have them bring you back to…_known space_."

Ash bristled. "At least I'm doing my duty, not hiding from authority like a rat," she retorted.

The mechanic straightened up, eyes flashing. "Oh, so the Alliance is _authority,_ now? Since when?"

She put a hand to her face in a ridiculous impression of a thinking pose. "Oh, I don't know…maybe since we pushed the turians out of Shanxi and established communications with the Council?"

"Is that so?" sneered the mechanic. "Because I've read your file, and if I remember correctly…if it weren't for your gramps, there never would have BEEN a Shanxi."

Ash stared, aghast. She didn't know what was worse—that this asshole had taken the time to read her file, or that he'd decided to bring up something like that.

_Oh, you did not just go there…_

She had a few choice words prepared on the tip of her tongue, but before she could use them Lilith's voice cut into the fray.

"Delan, back off," she snapped. "She's just trying to help."

Delan rounded on her. "And what the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded. "We came here to get away from the Alliance, and here they are meddling in our affairs again?"

Not waiting for an answer, he stormed off.

Lilith watched the old man go and turned back to Ashley apologetically.

"Sorry about that," she said. "Delan…he's a nice guy, but…he has his opinions about the Alliance."

Ash shrugged. "Everyone does."

There was a beat of silence. Lilith cleared her throat.

"I didn't come here to break you guys up," she said. "We've got a problem. Our communications systems have failed."

"Failed?" echoed Ashley. "What do you mean, 'failed'?"

The colonist shook her head. "We're not receiving and we're not transmitting. The techs are freaking out; they don't know what's going on."

Ashley sucked in a breath and exhaled sharply, thinking. "What did they make of it?"

Lilith shook her head. "They're stumped," she said. "We've been able to deduce one thing, though…this wasn't some sort of accidental failure. It was sabotage."

"Sabotage?" Ash blinked. "But who…?"

"Nobody recognizes the encryption," Lilith told her. "It looks…ancient."

Ash sighed. Her gut feeling had been right.

And she didn't like it one bit.

"What can we do?" she asked.

"Right now?" Lilith shrugged. "Nothing, unfortunately."

* * *

NORMANDY SR-2  
FEBRUARY 18, 2185 (EARTH CALENDAR)

"Joker," called Shepard, his hands on the railing of the Galaxy Map. "Can you take us to Illium? I need to verify something."

He was hoping to find Liara T'Soni. If what TIM said was true and she was indeed an information broker, perhaps she would have information on Ashley's whereabouts. Maybe even something to help them on their mission.

"Aye aye, commander." There was a pause. His voice returned, apologetic. "Cancel that...we've got a transmission coming in from the Illusive Man. Patching him through; Shepard, you should get to the comm room."

Caleb swore under his breath. Great. And he'd been onto something, too. He turned on his heel and made his way to the communications room.

The familiar orange holographic projection scanned him into the system. A soft mechanical hum later and Shepard found himself in the same room as the Illusive Man, smoking a cigar with a glass of scotch on his armrest. _Exactly as I left him, _Shepard thought sardonically.

Taking a drag, he spoke.

"Shepard. I think we have them."

TIM blew smoke for dramatic effect, and continued. "Horizon, one of our colonies in the Terminus, has just gone silent. If it isn't another attack, it soon will be. Has Mordin delivered the countermeasure for the seeker swarms?"

Shepard shook his head. "Not yet."

"Let's hope he works well under pressure. There's something else you should know."

He stopped, one foot poised to abandon the link.

"One of your former crew, Ashley Williams, is stationed on Horizon."

It took a moment for that to sink in.

Ashley Williams.

Ash.

"Ash? What's she doing on Horizon?" Shepard wanted to know. "I thought she was with the Alliance."

"Officially, it's an Alliance outreach program to better relations with colonies in the Terminus…but they're up to something. And if they sent Chief Williams…it must be big."_And it must concern me,_ Shepard thought.

"The Collectors are getting ready to hit a colony with one of my former crew on it, huh? I don't buy it."

"Neither do I." The Illusive Man looked Shepard in the eye.

"Send us the coordinates," Shepard said. "I'm going to the tech lab."

He stepped out of the communications room, his mind abuzz with activity. If Ashley was on Horizon…what if they were too late? What if she was already gone by the time they got there? What if, God forbid, they found another Freedom's Progress waiting for them?

He had to get to Horizon.

Shepard burst into the tech lab, almost running towards Mordin, who was poring over the captured seeker.

"Tell me you have something," he panted.

Mordin regarded him for a moment, then looked back towards the insect. A smile stretched across the salarian's face.

"Yes."

* * *

HORIZON  
FEBRUARY 20, 2185

"Lilith, we've got another problem." Ash jogged up to the colonist, looking rather perturbed.

"Still can't get the targeting matrix online?" Lilith guessed. It was natural, for a soldier to try upping defensive measures at the first sign of trouble, but she was as frustrated as anyone else.

"Those defense towers are useless if we can't get them to work!" insisted Ash.

"Look, Gunny, I can understand your concerns, but getting the communications systems back online takes priority."

The solider scowled. "Yeah, okay. I'm surprised people haven't tried to blame that on me, too."

Lilith stopped in her stride and turned to face the other woman. "People out here don't trust the Alliance. It's nothing personal."

Ash opened her mouth to respond, but whatever she had to say was lost on Lilith's ears. She'd seen something in the sky, some sort of ship or dreadnought looming out of the clouds. She blinked. She wasn't seeing things, that was for sure, but…

"What is that?" she gasped, pointing. Ash followed her gaze, slowly shouldering her assault rifle. She looked through the sight; Lilith watched her eyes widen with alarm.

"Get everyone to the safehouse," she ordered Lilith. "GO!"

But the colonist was frozen in place, staring in horror and fascination at the apparition in the sky. By the time she'd returned to her senses, people had started running and Ash was firing into a swarm of…insects, it looked like. A buzzing noise reached her ears and her blood ran cold, terror making her heart race. By now Ash had turned around and was running too; Lilith didn't dare look back to see if she was okay.

Suddenly the ground rushed up to meet her and Lilith thrust her hands out just in time to catch herself, her face hovering above the grass. She felt someone pulling her along and looked up into the face of Egan. She scrambled to her feet and they started running, together, but not quite fast enough…the bugs were getting closer.

There was a scream behind her and Lilith looked back in time to see Terri freeze in place, a bug latched onto her neck. Her eyes were still wide in terror. She wailed in terror and forced herself to run faster.

But they weren't fast enough and the swarm overtook them, first getting Egan in the neck and arms. He fell, bring her with him. She struggled to get free of his paralyzed fingers, rolling away just as one landed on her chest. Lilith shrieked, struggling to get it off, before a piercing agony stabbed her in the chest. Almost immediately Lilith became immobile, her limbs no longer responding to her. She fought to move, tried to scream as one of those…things crawled over her face…She could still move her eyes, though, and saw out of the corner of her eye that Ashley, too, had not been fast enough. She was frozen in mid-run, her eyes alight with determination and fury. Her hands still clutched her assault rifle.

* * *

"ETA in five minutes, Commander."

Joker's voice crackled over the intercom and then it was gone, replaced by the mind-numbing silence. Shepard nodded, mostly to himself than anything else, and strapped on the last of his armor. Looking up, he spoke to EDI.

"EDI, tell Garrus and…Grunt to meet me in the shuttle bay."

"Understood, Commander."

He stepped into the elevator, thinking of the coming mission. The ominous air surrounding the Illusive Man's transmission made him think that maybe they were too late. If they found Horizon as an empty colony, a ghost town, he didn't know what he would do. Because if the entire colony had disappeared, and Ash was one of them…that would be all the more incentive to go after the Collectors—but he would probably go crazy first.

The doors slid open and Shepard crossed the shuttle bay, jogging towards the Kodiak where Mordin was outfitting Garrus and Grunt with his seeker swarm counter-measure. While the shore party was planetside, he would apply them to everyone else on the crew.

It seemed to take forever for Mordin to slide the small device into place in an outlet in the middle of Shepard's back. Finally, it was done. Breathing a sigh of relief, Shepard placed his sniper rifle on his back and hopped into the shuttle.

When they landed, the air was thick with seeker swarms. Shepard didn't know if this was a good thing or a bad thing. Either the Collectors were in the process of collecting colonists, or…they were getting ready to pull out. In any case, there was still hope. Maybe they hadn't taken Ashley yet.

The colony was still swarming with Collectors. He didn't need an encyclopedia to recognize them; they weren't human and they certainly weren't security mechs. Shepard pulled out his assault rifle and sighted his first target, a drone standing by a half-wall, and peppered it with assault rifle fire. He could hear the sharp report of a sniper rifle and the bark of a shotgun on either side of him; Garrus had found a place to take down his targets one by one and Grunt was charging them full-on Leroy Jenkins style.

Shepard sighted another target and squeezed the trigger. Just like that, he was locked in. Shoot, cover, reload, shoot…

When it was all over, the clearing was strewn with the bodies of dead Collectors. Shepard approached one and turned it over with his foot. It looked like a diseased turian, with a squashed head and four eyes. Like nothing he had ever seen. Shepard bent down and stabbed it with his combat knife, twisting the hilt and pulling it back out. It was covered in a dark, viscous matter that resembled salarian blood, but a little more icky. Grunt frowned.

"What are you doing?"

Shepard put the knife back in his boot. "Maybe Mordin can analyze this," he said. "Let's get moving."

The Commander straightened up and shouldered his assault rifle, looking around to get his bearings. Finally, he decided on a path that would take him to the heart of the colony. There were more Collectors, a couple armed with high-energy particle beams that quickly whittled down their shields. They plowed through them, Shepard stopping occasionally to pick up heat sinks or turn over a body, but there were no colonists in sight. As they went, a burning question festered in his mind.

_Where is Ashley?_

* * *

It didn't take long for Ashley to realize that she was, for all intents and purposes, frozen. She could still feel…vaguely. She knew enough to tell that her feet were planted in the grass, her rifle clutched in her unresponsive hands. Through her limited scope of vision, she could see the strange insects flitting around, their wings giving them the impression of grotesque butterflies. She felt one still clutched in her hand, struggling weakly against her paralyzed fingers. She was confused, disoriented. What was going on?

And then they came, bi-pedal aliens that were the likes of which Ash had never seen. They looked like diseased turians with squashed, inverted cone heads that screamed "insectoid." She didn't know what they were, but the sight of them struck fear into her heart.

Whatever they wanted, it could not be good.

One of them stopped and…well, looked (for lack of a better word) down at the incapacitated body of Lilith. It chattered briefly with its companion, a noise that sounded like a death rattle and a monkey at the same time. The first bent down, seized her arms, and dragged her away, out of Ashley's line of sight.

Ashley watched with growing fear as several more unlucky colonists were picked up and placed in…some sort of pods, it looked like. Her eyes widened in terror as two of them started making their way to her. The adrenaline kicked in and she urged her body to move, do something, fight—if she could just move her arms, she could spray them with assault rifle fire, but they were getting closer, and she was sure that this was the end—

Another one of those…things…joined them. Fear exploded in her heart when she saw it. it looked like the others…vaguely. It looked like a smoldering rock, its eyes glowing with the fires of hell…she wanted to scream in terror and disgust as it lay a burning hand on her face.

At length, the thing spoke, and she understood what it was saying.

"_THIS ONE IS OF MORE USE TO US ALIVE."_

A chill ran down her spine. The voice sounded hauntingly like Sovereign…

But no. Sovereign was dead. It was impossible. Unless…

It tugged the rifle from her hands and the bug from her fingers, and suddenly Ash felt her muscles responding to her again. As soon as she could, she screamed and twisted away from the creature's grasp and staggered to her feet, bringing up her fists. But the thing seemed to laugh at her.

"_INSIGNIFICANT CREATURE,"_ it scoffed. _"GO. TELL SHEPARD WHAT IS COMING FOR HIM."_

She faltered. Shepard…

All the fight left her muscles. _Shepard…_

And for the first time in her life, Ashley Williams ran away from a fight. The insects parted around her like the Red Sea as she ran, almost tripping over herself in a desperate bid to get the hell away from those abominations.

* * *

Husks.

The howling abominations charged towards the shore party, eyes gaping and mouths open in an everlasting scream of agony. Their bodies were laced with cybernetics. They reached out with their bony arms, clawing at Shepard and his crew.

He sprayed them down with his assault rifle, watching as they fell one by one. The things were hauntingly familiar, and he realized that he had seen them before. Eden Prime was swarming with the things.

Sovereign had this tech, he realized. That would mean that the Collectors were indeed agents to the Reapers…but if there husks here, then why—

"Shepard! Behind you!"

Shepard turned around just in time to see an utter monstrosity towering above him, an eerily humanoid creature with several husks bulging beneath a grotesque hump. Screaming out in shock and fear, he let go with his assault rifle, stumbling back just as Grunt fired a superheated shotgun round into its bulging hump. The thing fell to its knees and keeled over. Black liquid flowed freely from its wounds.

"God damn," he said, looking slightly ill. "What is that?"

Grunt shrugged. "Let's just call it a camel and leave it at that," he growled.

Camel—how did Grunt have knowledge of Earth creatures? Shepard gave the krogan an odd look.

Before he could pose the question, a volley of gunfire ended their brief calm amid the storm.

Garrus ducked under the archway to join Shepard and Grunt in looking at a dead husk. His mandibles fluttered as he examined the thing.

"They had these on Eden Prime," he remembered. "They were turned from dead colonists by impaling them on giant spikes…why aren't there any here?"

"Maybe they were brought over from some other colony," Shepard suggested. "I'm pretty sure the Collectors need the colonists alive for a reason."

"Speaking of colonists, where the hell are they?" Grunt piped up. "We haven't seen a single one. Maybe they're already taken. Maybe this is a waste of time."

"Killing is never a waste of time for you," Shepard pointed out, trying to keep the fear contained within himself. He desperately hoped that Grunt was wrong.

The krogan grunted in response.

"Let's keep moving."

They encountered their first frozen colonist on a landing next to a building. A man and a woman were frozen in place. Judging from their position, the man had been trying to help the woman off the ground. They were immobile, but as they passed Shepard was sure that he could feel their eyes, wild in terror, fixed on them.

"Immobile, but…completely aware," Garrus murmured. "Well, it seems to work pretty damned well."

"They've been like this a long time," Shepard said. Once again, he swallowed fear.

"_I WILL DIRECT THIS PERSONALLY."_

A new voice shattered the silence like glass. Shepard wheeled around, and what he saw made him blanch in horror.

The Collectors had arrived, but it seemed that they had a bit of extra punch to boot. The shore party watched, aghast, as one of the drones suddenly rose in the air, shuddering in spasms of agony and…something else. Its eyes bulged, its limbs shook as if it was having a seizure, but then there was a flash and it fell back to the ground.

The thing had undergone a transformation, and if the Collectors had been ugly before…it didn't hold a candle to the hideous thing that stood before them now. Its eyes were illuminated as if by some internal light; energy pulsed from its very skin and made it look like a walking, smoldering coal. But the voice…

It sounded hauntingly like someone Shepard had encountered before, 2 years ago on Virmire.

_Sovereign…_

But no—Sovereign was dead. Destroyed. Ceased to exist. Whatever. This wasn't Sovereign, it was someone—something else.

Shepard didn't get a lot of time to dwell on this matter, because a flash of light send him tumbling to the ground. He could smell the acrid sting of singed hair and realized that he had, quite literally, had a very close shave. The fireball (or whatever it was) screamed past him and burned a hole in one of the buildings behind them.

Back in combat mode, Shepard swept up his rifle and fired. His eyes widened in disbelief when he saw the bullets being absorbed by a barrier of some sort. He persevered, whittling down the shield little by little until finally, the rounds punched through. He had to stop a few times to reload and avoid the thing's attacks.

All the while, the possessed (Shepard was convinced that it was possessed) Collector taunted him.

"_IF I MUST TEAR YOU APART, SHEPARD, I WILL."_

The thing lobbed another fireball and Shepard launched himself forward onto the grass as the crate he'd been taking cover behind ignited. The flames ate through the metal and plastic, and black smoke twisted up into the air. Shouting in alarm, he let go with his rifle again.

Finally, the possessed drone crumbled to ash and faded away.

"_THIS FORM IS INSIGNIFICANT."_

_Holy shit, _Shepard thought. _That's some crazy BS._

* * *

Ashley ran until her lungs threatened to burst and her legs gave out under her. She crumpled to her knees on the grass, gasping for breath, eyes wide. The swarm of…seekers still clamored above her head, but still made no move to attack her. She didn't know whether or not to be relieved.

She rolled onto her back, still struggling for breath. Tears flowed down her face, tears of both exhaustion and fear, but also agony.

It had known her. The thing had known her, what Shepard was to her and what she had been to him. She replayed its words in her head.

_Tell Shepard what is coming…_

She was going to wake up any moment now, she thought. This was just a bad dream.

But she knew, deep down, that it was anything but a dream. This was as real as it ever got, with freaky insects freezing people left, right, and center, diseased-looking aliens, and a myriad of other things horrible. The screams of the colonists still untouched by the seekers echoed in her ears. Slowly, they faded to nothing.

The humans tired. The seekers did not.

For a moment there was silence except for the buzzing of the swarms, one of them even landing by her head. Ashley's fist came down on it, and her hand came away covered in viscous black goo. She grimaced in disgust and wiped her hand on the grass.

And then she heard gunfire. There was the sound of an explosion, more gunfire, and then the sound of someone cursing very loudly. There was the horrendous scream of something tearing its way through the cargo containers in the center of the colony, and the ground shuddered. Ashley looked up in astonishment.

Someone had activated the GARDIAN weapons, and they were unleashing their payload on the great ship that had brought terror upon the colony. Small explosions marked the places where the rounds hit. It was like killing a horse with bug bites.

Without thinking, Ashley sprang to her feet and started running in the direction of the sounds of battle. She skidded to a halt when something caught her eye. It was an Avenger assault rifle, very much like the one she'd lost. She picked it up and kept running. It was fully charged. Smiling wryly, she fastened it to her back. She couldn't wait to put a bullet or five in those things, just to see if they bled.

**A/N: Quite possibly the longest chapter I have ever written. Horizon is a PRETTY BIG THANG yo…and I'm not done! There's still the super angsty reunion and such…Nuhhh. And here I thought this was going to take only one chapter. Meh. .**

**Okaay Brendan, so I cut this short to get it up in time. I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY.**


	11. Rough Landing

11: Rough Landing

_We came down to watch the world walk by  
And all she found was trouble in my eyes  
From the sky she pulled me down tonight  
She calls out the farther that I fly  
I love that sound, so give me one more line  
From the sky she pulled me down tonight  
Let her go, let her go_

Thankfully, there were no aliens in the way. Ash was glad; she didn't want to have to waste any bullets until she got to the source of the gunfire. It sounded like three people—three colonists who'd managed to evade the seekers, maybe? She managed to find a good number of thermal clips in the Horizon armory as she made her way towards the ring of GARDIAN cannons. It sounded like she'd need them.

Climbing up onto the rooftop of one of the buildings, Ashley lay down on her stomach and brought the sight up to her face.

It was three people all right, but it wasn't all humans. There was a krogan, a human, and a turian.

A turian in blue armor that looked hauntingly familiar…Ash did a double take.

_Garrus?_

Unless her mind was playing tricks on her, that was Garrus Vakarian in that clearing. Ash zoomed in; it seemed that half of his face had been badly damaged by what seemed to be a close-range missile attack. A chunk of his armor had been blasted off as well, but it was undoubtedly the C-Sec detective who she'd hunted Saren with…and never really trusted.

She didn't recognize the krogan. He (the only krogan she'd ever seen were male, so she assumed this one was a guy as well) looked pretty young, probably no more than a half century old. Wrex was probably the expert on that. It…he…was wielding a shotgun which he fired with gusto, sending husks and Collectors flying. He seemed to be enjoying it thoroughly, too.

Her sight shifted to the third member of the party, a human. He was clad in N7 armor, the emblem clearly visible through her scope. But then her eyes shifted to his face, and her heart stopped.

The sculpted jaw, the buzz cut, the blue eyes, the light stubble…everything about him screamed that he was Commander Shepard, but her mind refused to accept it. No, no, she had grieved two years for this man—a man that, unless her eyes were playing tricks on her, had not been dead at all.

What the hell was he doing on Horizon?

Whatever grief she was feeling was suddenly ripped from her chest, to be replaced by annoyance and indignity. She'd made herself a promise to sock him in the face if she ever got the chance. Now, unless her eyes were deceiving her (they rarely did) then she could get the chance to do just that.

And yet…

Other emotions rose to the surface, but Ash forced them down almost unconsciously as she watched Shepard spraying his assault rifle in short, controlled bursts like he always had when they were chasing Saren. Tearing her vision away, Ash scanned the area. There were several packing containers from the last supply drop littering the area, obstructing her vision in some places, but she could still see the aliens—Collectors, she thought they were called—and…husks?

The things charged at the three fighters, howling. She'd seen the things before…but where—that was what escaped her. She simply could not remember.

Instead, she fell into soldier mode and sighted her first target, a Collector wielding a heavy weapon of some sort. She squeezed the trigger; the thing's head exploded and it fell to the ground.

The turian (Ashley resolved to think of him as "the turian" rather than "Garrus," it was easier to believe that the human was not Shepard that way) started shouting something about shots from someone he could not see. (That would have been her.) The human shouted back that they had more to worry about than gunfire that was taking down the enemy. Ash smiled wryly. _The enemy of my enemy is my friend, _she thought.

"_I AM ASSUMING CONTROL."_

Even from this distance, she recognized the voice. It was that…devil-thing that had released her and allowed her to make it this far. Zeroing in on it through her sight, Ash's heart swelled with anger. Oh, was she going to show this son of a bitch what for.

She peppered it with gunfire. It was equipped with some sort of biotic barrier, which rippled under her actions combined with those of the turian, the krogan, and the human. But with the four of them combined, it didn't take long to remove it from the battlefield and Ash felt a quiet sense of triumph as it disintegrated into ashes.

_Suck on that, asshole._

But the feeling of victory was quick to disappear when the next wave of Collectors showed up. They weren't alone.

A monstrous, hideous creature landed in the clearing with a horrific scream and began floating towards the shore party. It looked like something from a bad science fiction movie, a grotesque floating thing composed of a bunch of Husks fused together and floating around, firing beams of energy similar to those the Collector heavies were wielding, but blue in color and seemingly much more powerful. She could hear the shore party screaming, firing their weapons with reckless abandon. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the human's—Shepard's—shields flicker and die. He managed to get into cover just in time, being careful to edge away from the thing at all costs.

"Keep your distance!" shouted the turian, taking potshots at the thing whenever he could. Ash let go with the assault rifle, spraying it with little regard to her ammo capacity. Only dumb luck and irony could allow it to slowly turn and set its sights on her just as her weapon clicked. Empty.

Shit.

_This situation has just gone FUBAR,_ she thought. Shit.

She could only watch as the monstrosity came closer but screeched in frustration, unable to get to her from the rooftop. Whatever relief she felt at that point was quickly wiped from her mind when it glowed bright blue, planting its four spidery legs planted on the grass, and its maw opened up in a gruesome wail, a death choir. There was a screaming noise and a shudder of energy that knocked her off the rooftop. She fell through the air, the rifle flying from her grasp, and time seemed to slow down as she scrabbled desperately for purchase against the smooth wall.

Ash landed hard, the breath knocked from her body, and she saw stars. She felt something crack. Then there was pain, waves of it, and she tried to escape as the thing towered over her.

_I'm sorry, Skipper._

The world went black.

* * *

The Praetorian turned its attention away from whatever had distracted it on the rooftop, and Shepard smiled wryly. It was just enough time for them to unload a considerable amount of ammo into the thing's sorry hide. A few more shots should do it, he thought.

Except it didn't. The thing was unscathed, and he realized that his bullets were rippling against a biotic barrier. He growled in frustration. It didn't have a biotic barrier before. There were heat sinks scattered around the area, but he'd have to run across open ground to reach them, leaving him exposed. There weren't a lot of options left. It was getting closer, and its particle beams were eating away at the crates.

Taking a deep breath, he ran, forcing himself onwards, and rolled behind a truck just as the beam ripped through the grass where he had been seconds ago. He scooped up the two heat sinks on the ground and pushed one into his assault rifle, the other in his sniper. Popping out of cover, he aimed at the Praetorian's eyes with his assault rifle.

It seemed to be working a little, at least. One of the particle beams was rendered useless, but by the time it was gone, the Praetorian was much too close for comfort. If it turned blue again…well, it had gotten a barrier the last time. He didn't want to know what would happen if it happened again. He ran across the clearing, wishing that he could tell EDI to target the Praetorian with one of the GARDIAN towers. He ground his teeth with frustration. Was this the end of the road?

But then he remembered the M-920 Cain strapped to his back. Cerberus had been pretty confident about its capabilities when they'd handed it to him. Maybe it would prove to deliver them from this completely FUBAR mess. Maybe he had enough juice to get off one shot.

He hauled the heavy weapon off his back with difficulty. It was pretty heavy, and bulky too. Cerberus obviously wasn't thinking much about size efficiency when they'd designed it; hopefully its damage would be worth the weight. (No pun intended.)

Aiming the best he could, Shepard pulled the trigger. Nothing could have prepared him for what happened next. There was a blinding flash and an explosion that knocked him off-balance, and his vision went white. A small mushroom cloud bloomed in the air. His ears were ringing and Shepard realized, with a sick sensation in his gut, that he hadn't checked to see if his squad mates had been clear of the blast. Crap.

But the Praetorian was dead, at least. That was a relief. So was the sight of Garrus and Grunt jogging up to meet him, breathless.

"Damn, Shepard," Garrus said, impressed. "When did you get that piece of hardware?"

"Cerberus." That was all the answer they needed.

"Well, give us a heads-up next time you plan on using that thing," Grunt told him a little snappishly. "I'm no good for fighting if I'm a pile of ash on the ground."

Shepard cracked a smile. "I'll make sure to let you know."

The smile faded as his eyes shifted to the Collector ship. He hoped that the Praetorian was part of the last wave; he honestly didn't know how much longer he could last against these hordes of enemies. Maybe if EDI could get the GARDIAN towers to disable the ship, they could board it and rescue the colonists. Or, at least, find out where they were going. That would be the least that could be salvaged from the mess.

But at the next moment, Grunt shouted out a warning and he shielded his eyes, turning away from the blinding flash as the ship's thrusters roared to life.

"They're pulling out!" shouted Grunt.

It took a lot of willpower to keep himself upright, but Shepard caught himself against the console and stared in dismay after the ship, rapidly becoming a disappearing speck in the sky. He wanted to scream out in frustration. Had he really come this far to see them escape, with more than half of the colony on board?

"God dammit!" he snarled. He reached for his sniper rifle, but Garrus stopped him.

"They're gone, Shepard," he said. "They got what they came for."

Resignedly, Caleb nodded and relaxed. There was a soft crunching of grass and Shepard turned to see the mechanic running up to them, his eyes staring in dismay and horror as the ship disappeared.

"NO! Don't let them get away!" he cried.

"There's nothing I can do," Shepard said apologetically. "They're gone."

* * *

When Ash came to, it was quiet. She was lying on her stomach, her face planted in the grass. She coughed and pulled herself up into a sitting position, looking around. She swallowed back a small whimper of pain.

She had taken a bad fall. Her ribs ached and her arm felt like it had been dislocated. Reaching out, she grasped the railing of a walkway and jerked, snarling in pain as the bone popped back into place. Ash sank back down to the grass, clutching her shoulder. She flipped herself on her back and tried to get her bearings.

The gunfire was gone, but she remembered where it had come from. Ash pulled herself to her feet and cut through a building to get to the clearing where the GARDIAN control console was housed.

She headed towards where the gunfire had been the thickest, thinking that whoever was left would be there. She could probably use the communications beacon to radio for help.

The first thing she saw was Delan, pointing up at the sky and shouting. At first she didn't move, obscured by the boxes, but then she caught sight of the turian and the krogan. The krogan she didn't recognize, but the turian was undoubtedly Garrus. She closed her eyes. This day just couldn't get any worse.

"...nothing I can do," that was the human, his voice regretful. She kept telling herself that she didn't recognize his voice. "They're gone."

"Half the colony is up there!" protested Delan. "They got Egan and Sam and…and Lilith!"

Lilith. Ash's blood ran cold. She'd hoped that Lilith, at least, had escaped. Now, she swallowed defeat.

"What would you have me do?" demanded the human. "I did what I could!"

The krogan spoke. "It was a good fight, Shepard."

Time seemed to stand still. Ash closed her eyes, not believing. It was Shepard after all…god dammit…

"Shepard!" Delan echoed. His voice hardened. "I know that name."

With a dismissive wave of his hand, he continued. "Sure, I've heard of you. You're some big Alliance hero, aren't you?"

Before she could stop herself, she found herself stepping into Shepard's line of sight.

"Commander Shepard," she said softly. "Captain of the Normandy, first human Spectre, savior of the Citadel…" Ash eyed Delan. "You're in the presence of a god, Delan. Back from the dead."

The old mechanic scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "All the good people we lost and you get left behind," he grumbled. "Figures. Screw this. I'm done with you Alliance peacocks."

He stormed off. Shepard didn't even notice him leave. He only had eyes for Ash. Blue eyes wide, raking over her, trying to take in every detail. He mouthed her name, agape. He stepped forward, not believing.

Suddenly, he pulled her into his arms and crushed her to his chest, burying his face in her shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut, holding back tears. She did the same.

"I thought you were dead, Shepard," she said hoarsely. "We all did."

He did not answer at first, simply holding her against his chest. She felt a single tear fall onto her shoulder, and when he finally, reluctantly pulled away his eyes were wet.

He blinked the tears away and regarded her with a new eye. She felt the back of her neck prickle unpleasantly beneath her gaze, and flushed a little. Did she really want to know what would come next?

"You don't sound so happy to see me, Ash," he said finally. "Is something wrong?"

She almost exploded. Wrong? What kind of a question was that?

"You could say that," she retorted. She tried to sound angry, but there was too much pain to be successful. "I spent two years thinking you were dead. How could you put me through that? I almost..."

She didn't need to continue. Her head hurt, her whole body ached, and this wasn't helping. God dammit, she wanted to lie down. Not deal with this.

"Ash...it wasn't my choice," he said desperately. "I was clinically dead, comatose at best—while Cerberus rebuilt me."

It took a moment for the words to sink in. When they did, she stepped back, aghast. She'd thought of a million different possibilities on his survival, but Cerberus...not once...

How could she have been so stupid?

"You're with Cerberus now?" Her eyes found Garrus. "Garrus, too. I can't believe the reports were right."

"Reports?" Garrus echoed. "You mean you already knew?"

She nodded. "Anderson wouldn't talk, but there were reports that you weren't dead. That you were working for the enemy."

Her mind flashed back to Commander Walsh and his constant comments on her relationship with Shepard, insolent words that she'd always tried to shut out but was now trying desperately to remember.

He said nothing for a moment, simply agape at her words. But he found his tongue, and his words stung.

"I don't answer to Cerberus," he said indignantly. "We want the same thing. To stop the Collectors."

"Is that what you think?" Ash narrowed her eyes. "Maybe you just feel grateful that they saved you. What if they're behind it? What—"

"What do you mean, saved?" demanded Shepard. "I was dead, Ash! Dead! I didn't _ask_ anyone to rebuild me! I didn't ask for my ship to be blown up, either, in case you were wondering. Are you going to tell me the Reapers are fake, too? You were there! You—you saw Saren. And Sovereign. How—"

"What about us, Shepard?" She cut him off, meeting his eyes. "I thought we had something. I—I loved you! Why didn't you at least try to contact me?"

"I—" He broke off. "I didn't want to hurt you," he managed. "Too much time has passed."

"What, Cerberus operatives can't be bothered telling their loved ones that they're okay?" she asked scathingly. She hadn't meant it like that, but her head hurt and the stress from…everything drove all rational thought from her mind.

Garrus cut in, frustrated. "Damn it, Williams! You're so focused on Cerberus that you're ignoring the real threat!"

Ash stood her ground. "Maybe," she shot back. "But at least I know where my loyalties lie. I'm an Alliance soldier; it's in my blood."

The blood was pounding in her head now, and she was, literally, seeing red.

"I'm an Alliance soldier, too," protested Shepard.

But Ash shook her head. Partly from the pain. Well, mostly from the pain. "No," she said flatly. "Not while you're with Cerberus, you're not."

"Ash—"

"I have to go," she said abruptly. "I have to report to my superiors. They'll decide whether or not they believe your story."

"My _story_?" demanded Shepard. "You saw it yourself! The Collectors are attacking human colonies! And they're working with the Reapers—Ash, just _stop walking away and listen to me!_"

She stopped in her tracks, her eyes on the grass. Slowly, she turned around.

"What?" she snapped. "What can you say? What do you want me to say? Two years I thought you were dead, Shepard! And now you show up and the first word out of your mouth is_ Cerberus_—"

"No, it wasn't—"

"_Do you have any idea what I've been through?"_

Shepard stopped, agape. He was quite speechless for a moment. It took him a while to find his tongue.

"No."

Ash looked up; her face was unreadable.

"I'm going to report to the Alliance," she said. "Take care of yourself, Shepard."

She turned on her heel and walked away, not wanting to see the agony in his eyes. She pretended not to hear him call her name.

When she felt that he could no longer see him, she sank down, massaging her temples and squeezing her eyes tightly shut. Slowly, she replayed their conversation back through her head. She grimaced. Had she really said those things? She knew better of Caleb Shepard…

It was hard to think now. The migraine was becoming overwhelming and Ash privately wondered if this was what Kaidan Alenko went through on a daily basis when he was still alive. She mentally kicked herself for her rashness. For two years she'd been rehearsing what she'd say to Shepard if she ever saw him again, and this was what she came up with?

One year ago she would have simply curled up and cried her heart out, cursing anything and everything she possibly could. But she knew now that a Williams never cried; instead, she just got to her feet and turned her face skywards just in time to see a UT-47 Drop Shuttle streak across the blue. And then she turned around to assess the damage, both inside and out.

* * *

**A/N: God, I hope I haven't fallen short of your Horizon expectations. Truth is that I've never played a male Shepard, only seen the Ash encounter on YouTube, so it was kind of hard to draw out the best that I could have done with emotion. BUT I HAVE DONE IT. :D Shepard's emotions will come in the next chapter, I just feel really bad about leaving this all hanging. **

**Fair warning, I'm not going to be concentrating much on the actual events in the game because c'mon, we all know what happens. This will not turn into a dry novelization of game events. Oh, no. I have a very devious surprise for you guys. Brendan knows. ;)**


	12. Lights and Sounds

**A/N: I added a bit more to this chapter, please read through it. :) Enjoy!**

12: Lights and Sounds

_Make it new but stay in the lines__  
__Just let go__  
__But keep it inside__  
__Smile big for everyone__  
__Even when you know what they've done__  
__They gave you the end but not where to start__  
__Not how to build, how to tear it apart__  
__So tell it all and fill up the air__  
__But make it loud 'cause nobody's there__  
__Nobody's there_

Silence hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity. Shepard stared, agape, at the spot where Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams once stood, his lips parted slightly.

And then he sprang to life, taking an aggressive step forwards, but Garrus grabbed his arm.

"Shepard," he warned him. Slowly, the commander relaxed. Shrugging off the turian's hand, he put his hand to his ear.

"Joker, rendez-vous for pickup," he ordered. "I've had enough of this colony."

He turned back to his crew, eyes downcast. He did not have the strength to look them in the eye.

* * *

Yeoman Kelly Chambers looked up, startled, as the elevator slid open and Shepard stormed out, still fully clad in his armor. His blue eyes were full of rage and vengeance. The other members of the crew turned their heads as he disappeared into the armory, supposedly to go to the communications room. Goldstein jumped out of his way with a little yip.

The Illusive Man was waiting for him.

"Good work, Shepard," he said warmly. "The Collectors are bound to think twice before attacking another colony."

"At what cost?" snarled Shepard. "Half the colony! Half the goddamn colony is gone. This is not a victory."

"Half a colony is better than an entire one," TIM reasoned. "They will be more careful now, but we can still lure them in."

Shepard ground his teeth, unable to counter the man's logic, however cold.

"Ash told me the Alliance got a tip that I was with Cerberus," he said. "It was you, wasn't it? Why?"

"It was a hunch," TIM admitted. "I suspected that the Collectors were interested in you, or people with ties to you. Now we know for certain."

Caleb bristled. "You risked the lives of my friends, my crew, and the entire colony—for this?"

"They were going to hit another colony either way," TIM reminded him. "Better to be able to predict which one, than to be running blind."

He sighed angrily. "Fine. But no more colonies get hit. No more humans are abducted."

"That's why we're doing this, Shepard. I'm devoting all resources to finding a way through the Omega-4 Relay. We have to hit them where they live."

"What can I do?"

"I've forwarded several more dossiers to you," TIM said. "You're going through the Omega-4 Relay with the best in the galaxy, but there is a chance that you won't be coming back alive. The team needs to be strong, their resolve unquestionable."

He looked Shepard straight in the eye and the commander felt a shiver run down his spine.

"That applies to you, too. I trust you've left your baggage in the past?"

Shepard hesitated before answering.

"Yes," he lied. "It's done and taken care of."

TIM nodded his approval, though his eyes betrayed skepticism.

* * *

Joker turned around, looking the Commander awkwardly in the eye. "Hey, Commander. Kinda crazy, the people you run into out here, huh?"

Shepard shrugged. "We're still friends…barely." He hesitated. "It was…good to see she was okay, though."

Joker nodded distractedly. "Hey, Commander, didn't you say something about going to Illium? What do you need from there?"

A pause. Shepard wracked the recesses of his mind, thinking. It was strange—he could not seem to remember.

"I think we're good for now," he told the helmsman.

"Aye aye, Commander."

* * *

What happened next was a blur. Colonists were screaming and wailing for their loved ones, cursing those…things, cursing the Alliance, cursing her, and a thousand other things. Mostly her and the Alliance, though. Funerals were held, and the colonists grieved by empty graves, each with a different name on the headstone. Ash felt a tug in her heart when she passed by Lilith's name.

The aliens' bodies left from Shepard's swath of destruction were burned. They were tossed, one by one, into the pit of burning petrol. The smoke that rose into the sky was black. In a way, it reflected the darkness inside their hearts.

The colony was a mess. There were scorch marks on the sides of the buildings, blood smears on almost every kind of surface, and the worst was the countless amount of bony, cybernetics-laced body parts that littered the plaza and the other open spaces. The trail of blood and body parts cut a perfect path to the center of the colony, where cargo containers containing vital supplies had been destroyed in the firefight. More than half of their livestock had been killed by the Collectors and the seekers. Many of the crops had been burned.

The Alliance swept down from the air the next day, taking the names of survivors and the missing and setting themselves to work rebuilding the colony. Furious colonists rose up to greet them, throwing things, shouting angrily. One colonist even had the nerve to fire a gun into the crowd. He was taken away, and though nobody said anything, they all knew that he'd been executed.

The colony fell under Alliance jurisdiction, much to the anger of Delan and a number of other colonists. Frustrated and bereaved, the old mechanic had left the colony, taking what was left of his family with him.

It was on the first day after Delan had left that Ashley was approached by a woman from the agricultural sector.

"Ashley Williams?" asked the woman. She turned around. Standing before her was one of the colonists, Robin Reede. She hadn't bothered to get to know her that well; the only people she'd really gotten to know were people who'd worked on the weapons or the comm systems.

"That's me," Ash found herself saying. "What can I do for you?"

Robin handed her a small framed holo. It was a family portrait, and it showed her and three other people: a man and two boys. Ash looked back up at her, not understanding.

"They were taken," Robin whispered. "I know there's not much we can do about it, but...that man…Shepard…he's going after them, isn't he?"

"I suppose. I mean, I wouldn't know." It was true. At this point, whatever Shepard had told her was really up to interpretation.

Her next question. "Do you know how I can get in touch with him?"

"What?" asked Ash, surprised.

"An extranet number. An address. Anything."

"I—" Ash was about to turn her down, but then she saw the desperation in her eyes. Her entire family must have been taken in the raid. She didn't know what she would do if some mystery alien race took Abby, Lynn, and Sarah off to some hitherto unknown fate, never to be seen again.

Ash found herself opening up her omni-tool, finding Shepard's extranet address, and giving it to the bereaved woman. Robin thanked her copiously.

Ash could only nod, watching her go. Suddenly the emotions in her chest were overwhelming, too much to bear, and she slipped away, not wanting to make a scene.

She barely made it to her quarters. Hands shaking, Ash locked the door and slid down to the ground, burying her face in her arms.

Never before had she felt so helpless. In her seven years of service, Ashley had never felt so weak and vulnerable. The feeling of being frozen, and that...thing, touching her—touching her!—was almost too much to bear. It made her angrier than she had ever been before.

Was this how her grandfather had felt, watching as clip after clip of obsolete ammunition was spent against an enemy with superior defenses that would not be penetrated by the flying lead? Had he felt equally helpless, watching his men throwing themselves against the turians in a futile attempt to keep the city? Had he seen that for every hundred rounds of ammunition, perhaps they could disrupt an enemy's shields, while turian snipers took out ten of his men with every passing minute? Had he felt this as he surrendered, like he'd been doing the right thing?

Was this how her father had felt as he'd watched his comrades take positions of leadership as colonels, lieutenants, captains, even generals? Had he ground his teeth in frustration, knowing that he was serving with valor but never able to fully exploit his potential?

Was this feeling of helplessness what it meant to be a Williams?

Was this her grandfather's legacy for her? A career of stagnating in one rank and having to surrender, always, to a higher power?

* * *

The media showed up on the heels of the Alliance aid party, and that was when Ash knew it was time to leave. She hitched a ride off-world on the closest shuttle, intending to get to the Citadel and return to the Presidium, maybe to bitch Anderson out for not providing them with more support. If they'd had a battalion stationed at Horizon, then maybe it would have never happened. But most of all, she just wanted to get to her apartment and rest, maybe track down Sergeant Steele and try to make sense of what the hell was going on right now. He had a knack for figuring things out.

* * *

Shepard sighed and walked out of the helm, headed for the elevator. Tiredness overwhelmed him, and his hand hovered over the button to the captain's cabin for a long time, deliberating. The peace and quiet of his quarters suddenly did not appeal to him. Alone—no, the last thing he wanted was to be alone. Not now. He needed to talk to someone. Anyone. Or so he thought.

The doors slid open on the crew deck and Shepard started walking, eyes fixed on the door at the end of the hall. It slid open and he addressed the room's occupant.

"Miranda," he said. She looked up and for a moment her blue eyes flashed with alarm, but she relaxed.

"Commander," she greeted him. "What can I do for you?"

"Drop the formalities," he said wearily. "I just need to talk to someone."

Miranda frowned and leaned forward. "What's up, Shepard?"

Caleb sighed. "Just…tired."

"It's about Horizon, isn't it?" she asked sympathetically.

"Oh, no, nothing like that," he said sarcastically. "No, it's probably more about the fact that I died and it was Cerberus, of all people, who saw fit to resurrect me. It's more like I missed two years of my life that I'll never get back. It's more of the fact that I was brought back with four billion credits just to be sent on a suicide mission—no, Horizon doesn't bother me at all…" He trailed off. Miranda was watching him intensely.

"Seven billion," she said, her voice almost a whisper.

"What?"

"Seven billion credits," she repeated. "That's how much the Lazarus Project cost."

He stared at her, aghast. There were simply no words. But finally, he found some.

"Why?" he asked hoarsely.

"The Illusive Man saw you as the paragon of what he wanted humanity to be," she said. "Your death wasn't supposed to happen, nobody could have seen it coming…so he decided to bring you back."

"You didn't answer my question," he growled.

"Then why don't you rephrase it for me?"

"Why do _you care so much?"_

For the first time in a long time, Miranda was rendered speechless. Even she didn't know the answer to that question. It was an odd feeling, not knowing. Even when she'd walked into operations blind, she'd always had her wits to help her, but now…nothing.

"I…" She hesitated. Her eyes met his; he was watching intently. Waiting for an answer.

"I don't know," she said finally. He sighed, slumping his shoulders. Shepard seemed to deflate, suddenly no longer the supersoldier she'd built him to be, but a person. A human. He was so _close…_

"I don't know what to do," he confessed. "Nobody has ever been in this situation, have they? What are you supposed to do? What do you do when you've been brought back from the dead?"

"You live, I suppose." Miranda was shocked when those words came out of her mouth. Where did they come from? He looked at her, bewildered. She blushed.

"I'm sorry it had to be like this," she said. "I'm with you, Shepard. No matter what you do."

He nodded slowly, getting up to leave.

"Miranda…"

She looked up.

"Thank you. For everything."

* * *

**A/N: So, it is confirmed that this story will have a sequel. Well, it's going to be the first in a three-part series. So...I'm probably going to cut the line at 25 chapters, then on to Part 2, so keep an eye out for that. :) On another note, please review! All subscriptions and barely any reviews makes a...very unhappy Lynn. If you're reading this, you'd better be leaving a review. I'll sic my internet hounds on your router if you don't. :p**


	13. Only One

**A/N: I added an extra little snippet to Chapter 12, so that the plot would line up the way I intended. So if you haven't read it, please do. It will help everything else flow better. Sorry for the late update, there will probably be many more. High school does things to your updating ability. So does writer's block.**

_Here I go, so dishonestly  
Leave a note for you, my only one  
And I know you can see right through me  
So let me go  
And you will find someone_

_Here I go, scream my lungs out  
And try to get to you  
You are my only one  
I let go  
There's just no one, no one like you  
My only one_

13: Only One

Shepard looked through the dossiers the Illusive Man had given him, examining the name and description on every one. There was an asari justicar, a drell assassin, and, to Shepard's immense surprise, Tali. Apparently, she had garnered TIM's attention. Shepard was glad. Tali, at least, was someone he knew. Not much was on the dossier except for her location, Haestrom. Evidently it was a former quarian colony.

Shepard decided that despite everything, his trust in Cerberus was ambivalent at best. It would put his mind at rest if he had more people that he knew—but a part of him worried that Tali, like everyone else, had changed into a completely different person.

His final executive decision was to get Tali off of Haestrom. He went down to the CIC, heading for the galaxy map. He acknowledged Yeoman Chambers with a curt nod, placing his hands on the railing and looking over the map of the Milky Way. He almost didn't hear Kelly talking behind him.

"Commander, Miranda would like to see you. She says it's urgent."

He did a double take. "Miranda?"

She nodded. "She says it's important, if you've got the time," she told him.

The sound of her name was enough to give him pause. He stepped away from the galaxy map, turning towards the elevator. _Tali could wait_, he thought. "I'll go see her," he said, heading back for the elevator.

The lift seemed to take forever to descend to the third deck. When it did, Shepard found himself almost running to her office.

When Shepard arrived in Miranda's office, he found the operative pacing restlessly around her room. She looked up and relief spread across her face when she saw him.

"Shepard!" She stopped pacing. "I've always made a point of keeping my work and my personal life separate, but I've got no choice." Miranda took a moment to recollect her thoughts.

"I told you about my father. He stopped hunting me when I joined Cerberus, but this isn't about me. I have a sister. He hasn't stopped hunting her, and I think he knows where she is."

Caleb raised an eyebrow. A sister? Miranda had never mentioned a sister before. Then again, they hadn't had time to broach such a topic in the few conversations they'd had between them. He nodded, sold.

"What do you need me to do?"

She blinked. "Just like that?"

He shrugged. "You're part of my crew, Miranda. I want to make sure that I serve the people I lead. It's not just a one-way road."

"I—I suppose…" She smiled. "Should I give you the breakdown?"

Shepard nodded.

"I told you my father wanted a dynasty, and I told you that I ran away…but he had already cloned another daughter, genetically identical to me. When I left, I took her with me. Cerberus offered her protection as well as me…those were my terms. They've held up their end of the bargain, but I think my father knows where she is. I want to be there when Cerberus moves her."

"Where?"

"Ilium. I have a contact there—how quickly can we get there?"

Shepard shrugged. "I'll tell Joker to plot a course."

* * *

On Ilium, Lanteia had confirmed Miranda's suspicions. Her father had indeed found out where Oriana was, and Eclipse mercs were closing in. The asari mentioned someone else, a man named Niket. Miranda had given her reassurance that he was trusted, but Shepard had felt something tugging at his gut—something was off about his mention and why Miranda hadn't told him earlier. He considered telling her about his suspicions, but in the end decided against it—maybe he was wrong and Niket really was on their side. But as they encountered their first mercs, his doubts arose fresh in his mind.

"Yeah, I know who you are. You're the bitch that kidnapped my boss's little girl."

"Kidnapped?" echoed Miranda. "This doesn't concern you; I suggest you go home before someone gets hurt."

"You think you've got it all figured out, don't you? Enyala knows about Niket," the merc sneered. He was a biotic, no doubt a vanguard, and he was cocky as hell—but then again, most biotic mercenaries were. He stepped forward from his band of goons. "He won't be helping you anymore."

Miranda was unfazed, but Shepard was curious. "What do you mean, 'he won't be helping us'?" he demanded.

The merc shrugged. "That's none of your concern. Our boss ordered us to give you one chance to walk away. While we've been talking, my men have been lining up shots…so I suggest you do that."

Shepard stepped forward. "Then I suppose that's the difference between us," he said. "You give out chances. I don't."

He reached out and placed both hands on either side of the man's head; the next movement sent him tumbling to the ground with a broken neck. Miranda's reaction was instantaneous, reaching for her pistol and emptying it into the salarian behind the dead human. Shepard drew his gun too; his eyes swept up towards the ceiling. Raising his gun, he fired twice.

The canister dropped from its position on the rigging; it fell with a loud explosion onto the unfortunate mercs below. The two remaining didn't last long.

When the gunfire ceased, Miranda holstered her weapon, a little angry. "I could have handled it," she said haughtily. "That was a bit rash, don't you think?"

Caleb shrugged. "It worked. Let's keep moving, the sooner we get to Niket, the better."

"Agreed, Commander." She fell into step behind him, rolling her eyes in resignation.

* * *

_The gut is always right_, Shepard thought to himself. _The gut is always right—god dammit, why did I forget that?_

He knew his suspicions had been confirmed even before he heard the voices on the other side of the door. It only took for the door to slide open for him to place the final nail in the coffin.

There were three people there—two asari, and one human. The human had to be Niket. His eyes widened as he saw her.

"Miri," he said. Shepard couldn't tell if there was any emotion in his voice. He might have been surprised. He might have been apologetic. Shepard couldn't tell.

The yellow-armored asari—presumably Enyala—slid down from her perch, brandishing a Claymore shotgun. Privately, Shepard wondered if the asari ever complained about how the yellow clashed with their skin, because he personally hated the color. Did Eclipse really get any new recruits nowadays? He shrugged it off. It wasn't worth his time; she would be dead soon anyway.

"This should be fun," Enyala sneered. Her eyes were fixed on Miranda.

The second asari looked around, her eyes wide and scared. She turned on her heel and ran away, making a mad dash towards the other end of the building. Enyala's eyes flicked to the fleeing girl. Her motions were casual, almost lazy, as she sighted her gun and squeezed the trigger. There was the sharp report of the shotgun going off. The girl was flung through the air; she was dead before she hit the ground.

"Niket." Miranda's voice was cold. "You sold me out."

"It's your call now, Miranda." Shepard didn't quite know why he said it. He did know that he wanted to convey to Niket and Enyala the best he could that their fates were entirely in her hands, and that she would not be merciful. Miranda ignored him.

"Why, Niket? You were my friend. You helped me escape from my father." Her voice gave him pause. Shepard had never heard her like that before—far from the cool, businesslike tone she used daily, her voice was more like that of someone who'd seen a loved one relapse into drugs one too many times—apologetic, angry, and disappointed all at the same time. It threw him off.

"Yes—but that was because you wanted to leave. That was your choice—but when I found out that you'd stolen a baby—"

"Stolen!" Miranda's voice had changed again, shrill and angry. "Of all the nonsense. You saw what my father did to me. You know what he wanted from me. You think she would have been happy? Are you blind, Niket?"

"I wish I were," he said, unsympathetic. "Then I would have never seen that you were a kidnapper."

Miranda clenched her jaw. "_Kidnapped_, huh? How much did he pay you?" she ground out.

He paused. His eyes flicked to the floor, ashamed. "A great deal."

"Dammit, Niket! I helped you! You were the only one I trusted from that life!"

"He knew that," Niket replied. "That's why he bought me."

"You sold your friend out just like that, huh?" sneered Shepard.

"They told me that she'd stolen her baby sister all those years ago. They gave me a chance to make things right. No trauma to the family. She may be your sister, Miri—but she's your father's flesh and blood, too."

"Flesh and blood doesn't make a family," Miranda snarled. "I learned that the hard way."

"Then what does?" challenged Niket. His eyes were alight with defiance. "Don't get holy with me. You took his money for years."

"It's not like I had a choice."

"This is a waste of my time, Niket," Enyala cut in. "Niket, let's just finish this bitch and get out of here."

Shepard narrowed his eyes. "Take your best shot," he said. "I can't guarantee your survival."

"Who's this, your boyfriend?" she jeered. "Actually, I was just waiting for you to get dressed. Or does Cerberus really let you whore around in that outfit?"

Miranda ground her teeth but ignored her.

"We'll have to re-locate Oriana," Shepard said. "If Niket was working for your father, then he knows where she is."

There was a beat of silence. Niket shook his head. "Your father has no information on Oriana," he admitted. He spat out the words like they were a vile poison.

Miranda balked. Her eyes flew wide open and she gaped at him. "Niket, what—"

"I knew you had spies in your father's system, Miri, so I kept it private. I'm the only one who knows where she is."

One could have heard a pin drop in that warehouse. Miranda stared, agape. Shepard stared, agape. Even Enyala was shocked speechless—whether from the shock of the information or having heard a pin drop, Caleb didn't know. He could see the gears in Miranda's head frantically turning, processing the information.

"That makes him the only loose end," Shepard said at length. "What do you want to do?"

"I know damn well what I want to do…" She raised the gun again. "This isn't how I wanted it to end, Niket, but you know what they say…a life for a life…I'm going to miss you."

"Wait!" Shepard burst out. He grabbed Miranda's arm and forced it down. "Don't do this, Miranda."

"He's the only link to my father that's left!" she protested. "It's the only way."

"Is it?" His voice was hard. "Maybe he can talk to your father. Convince him that the trail went cold, that you got there first."

"I—I'll tell him I don't know where she is," Niket offered. "That it was a false lead."

Miranda clenched her teeth. "Fine," she snarled. "But Niket…I _never_ want to see you _again_—"

A single shot rang out. Niket keeled over, dead. Enyala was standing behind him, holding her shotgun. She wore a smug smile on her face.

"Done," she drawled. "Now let's get this over with. I've got a shipment to deliver."

Miranda's jaw dropped. She stared at Enyala as if she had been slapped, and in a way, she had. Furiously, Miranda fired up her biotics and lifted the asari, suspending her high above the ground.

"YOU'LL DIE FOR THAT, BITCH!" she shrieked. With a feral cry, she flung the merc leader across the warehouse, where she hit the wall and slid to the ground. She didn't move again.

The warehouse was suddenly eerily quiet. Niket was sprawled on the floor, a gaping hole in his stomach. His eyes were glazed over in the cold finality of death. Miranda looked down at his lifeless body, her face unreadable. Shepard looked away, pretending not to see the tears in her eyes. Something tugged at his heart then, something he could associate with watching Ashley giving words of kindness to Samesh Bhatia, but he could not quite place it.

_Jealousy?_

* * *

The soft, white lights in Miranda's office contrasted sharply with the harsh glare of light in the warehouse district. It was a relief on Shepard's eyes. So was Miranda.

"Thank you for helping me, Commander," she said at length. Her voice was brittle, sounding like it could break at any moment. "My sister is safe again, thanks in large part to you."

"And you're really at peace with what happened in the warehouse district?" asked Shepard.

She looked him in the eye. "Are you at peace with what happened on Horizon?" she countered. But then she relented, catching the look on his face. "I'm sorry…that was over the line."

"No, no," he said. "It's okay."

There was a protracted silence. Miranda dropped her gaze, like she couldn't bear to meet his. She nervously licked her lips before speaking.

"It took two years to rebuild you," she said finally. "Two years to get to know everything about you…understand your motives…"

"Seeing me naked…" quipped Shepard.

"Well, sure," she blushed a little. "But my point is…" She met his gaze at last. "I still can't figure you out, Shepard. Like right now. I have no idea what you're thinking."

"I'm a hard man to read." Caleb shrugged. "But what's life without a bit of mystery?"

"There are some mysteries that I could do without," she replied. She was looking directly at him.

For the second time in his life, Shepard wasn't quite sure what to say.

She got out of her seat and crossed the room, looking out the window. She was deep in thought, watching the stars passing by in blurs of white light.

"Niket was my world, Shepard," she said quietly. "Even at a young age, he was…he was my best friend. He was the only good thing my father allowed in my life. I suppose he didn't want me to crack, but as I got older…he started pulling Niket away. When he told me I was never to see him again, that was the last straw. I left.

"Oriana was…it was one of many things I kept from him," she continued. "I told myself it was for his own good. He didn't need to know about her. He didn't need to know about Cerberus. But then I think…if I'd told him…none of this would have happened."

"What's done is done," Shepard told her quietly. He was standing, too, crossing the room to her. "You can't dwell on it. Shit happens and things don't go your way, but you just have to roll with the punches, y'know?"

She smiled wryly. "Who told you that?"

He shrugged. "A friend." _Ashley._

"That's a nice ideal to live by," she replied. "But it's not always so easy."

"Easier for some," he said.

She turned to him at last. "How about you? Is it easy for you?"

"I suppose so," he said. _Well, not all the time_. "I mean, I'm here, aren't I?"

A flicker of something—Shepard couldn't tell what—in Miranda's eyes. She smiled a little. "I suppose you are," she allowed.

There was a long silence between them.

"It's hard to take this all in," she said at last. "I…thanks for doing this for me," she said again. "Maybe…maybe you could help me forget about all this for awhile."

"What do you mean?" Shepard asked, even though he understood. "You want me to—"

"You don't _have_ to," she said, her cheeks burning. "I…I just…"

She reached up and touched his face.

Time seemed to slow down as he reached up to cover her hand with his. His mouth had gone dry and he swallowed.

And then he leaned in and kissed her, first a tentative brushing of the lips and then he gathered her in his arms, his kisses hungrily claiming her mouth. He lowered her towards her bed. She could not speak, only gasped as he kissed her throat. Shepard drew away to look at her and looked in her eyes. And then he froze. Just…stopped.

The spell was broken. He pulled away from her, his eyes unreadable.

"What…"

"I…I can't," Caleb said hoarsely. "I don't think I can…I'm sorry."

She stared at her from her position on the bed, speechless. Finally, face burning with shame, Shepard left the room. Miranda's head thudded back to the mattress and she brought her hands up to cover her face.

* * *

Caleb stormed into his cabin, sending datapads flying as he brushed past his desk. He sat down heavily on his bed, palming his face. A thousand things surged through his mind. His childhood, the Alliance, Ashley, Kaidan, Ashley, Kaidan, Virmire, Ilos, Ashley, Kaidan, the lost Normandy, dying, Miranda, Miranda, _Miranda_…

How could he have been so stupid? What had he done?

Furious, confused, and feeling utterly isolated, Shepard broke down into tears.

* * *

"Ashley!"

She turned, surprised—but not really—to see Sergeant Brendan Steele walking towards her, dressed out in his Alliance blues and grinning broadly. She shook his hand.

"Steele," she greeted him warmly. "About damn time you showed up. Shore leave?"

"Something like that." He laughed.

"Well, you just decided to come by the Citadel? You have any family here?"

He shrugged. "Nope. Just you."

She detected the implication in his words and arched an eyebrow; he quickly backtracked.

"I mean, as a friend," he stumbled over his words. "You know what I mean."

She grinned. "Relax, Sarge. I'm just teasing you."

"Right," he said, loosening up a little. "Hey, have you had dinner yet?"

"Not yet, why?"

"Do you want to come over to my place?" Brendan asked her, trying to sound nonchalant. "Dinner?"

She froze, looking at him warily. "Are you sure?" she asked cautiously. He knew what she was trying to say. Alliance regs. Alliance regs.

"Yeah, why not?"

There was a long pause. Finally, Ashley nodded and shrugged.

"Let me just put my stuff away."

"So what's on the menu tonight, Steele?" she asked as they walked.

"Brendan to you. Well, I don't know. My sister sent over a bunch of recipes for me to try out. I might use one of those," he replied.

"You have a sister?"

"Three, actually. The one who gave me the recipes was Jacinta."

"Kind of an uncommon name," Ashley commented.

Brendan shrugged. "It's worked for the past twenty years," he chuckled.

His apartment, as it turned out, wasn't so far away from her own. They ascended three flights of stairs and he opened the door.

"Make yourself comfortable," he said, heading to the kitchen. Ashley followed him and watched as he withdrew a datapad from a kitchen drawer and scrolled through it. Ash couldn't quite focus on anything past his face, lightly brushed with stubble and illuminated by the glow of the orange hologram. It was kind of alluring. Mesmerizing. Whatever. What the hell, she was being fucking poetic again.

"Here's a recipe for beef jerky stroganoff," he muttered, half to himself. "Hey, you want something to drink?"

"I dunno, beer sounds nice."

Brendan grinned. "Spoken like a true bro," he said. "Here." He tossed her a bottle and she caught it deftly in the palm of her hand.

"Anyway, beef jerky stroganoff. What do you think?"

Ash shrugged and approached him with the pretense of looking over his shoulder at the recipe. He smelled nice. Clean.

"Sounds good," she said. She took a sip of the beer.

She helped him prepare the food, despite his insistence that she just let him do all the work. By the time the dish was on the stove, she was halfway through her second beer. As much as she didn't want to admit it, when it came to alcohol she was a complete lightweight and she was already feeling a little hazy. She was certainly good at concealing it though.

"Well, let's just let that sit for a while, I guess," Brendan said, turning away from the stove to face her.

She smiled. "So, tell me about the rest of the tour."

"Well, we got sent on two other missions after you left. No varren, and no casualties." He smirked at the thought. It vanished, though, as he continued. "I heard your mission didn't go as smoothly."

"No," she said miserably. "Something—Collectors—kidnapped half the colony. More than half." She intentionally left out the tiny detail that Shepard had been there as well.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"Don't be. It wasn't your fault."

"But you feel responsible, don't you?"

Ash sighed in defeat. There was no point. The man could read her like a book.

"I could have done something," she spat. "If I had more men, more firepower…hell, if the colonists had been more cooperative…I should've been faster. I should've known they were coming, I…I should have done a lot of things."

Angry tears formed in her eyes and she had to look away. She felt warm fingers under her chin, gently turning her face towards his.

"You don't have to think about that right now," Brendan said comfortingly. "Just leave the past in the past."

Ash couldn't help but think of the double entendre to his words when he leaned into kiss her. At the last minute, she pulled away.

"I'm sorry—I can't," she muttered. "There was another man…he died…and…"

"Oh." Brendan drew away as well, understanding. "Christ. I'm sorry, Ash."

"It's okay," she sniffed. "It's just that you've been so nice to me, and I've been so damn lonely…"

"Just…" He found himself at a loss for words. "Just let me fix you dinner," he said at last. "It doesn't have to be more than that."


	14. Empty Apartment

_Take you away from that empty apartment you stay__  
__And forget where the heart is__someday  
If ever you loved me you'd say it's okay_

_It's okay to be angry and never let go__  
__It only gets harder the more that you know__  
__When you get lonely if no one's around__  
__You know that I'll catch you when you're falling down__  
__We came together but you left alone__  
__And I know how it feels to walk out on your own__  
__Maybe someday I will see you again__  
__And you'll look me in my eyes and call me your friend_

14: Empty Apartment

Ashley Williams was back.

The bartender had little comment for her return. He didn't want her there; the unwelcome aura surrounding him was enough to make anyone walk away and find another place to drink. But Ashley wasn't just anyone. The man didn't scare him. As much as he beat his chest, shot her menacing looks, and cracked his knuckles, she knew he was full of hot air. He didn't dare take her on, and she knew this.

But the whiskey was strong enough so that she didn't care either way. All that mattered was her and the drink.

It was strange, really. She should be feeling ashamed at having digressed to this again, but she didn't. Instead, she felt relieved. Gone was the façade of normalcy, gone was the pretence of being able to move on. The haze gave her an odd feeling of serenity, which made her think of one of the prayers she'd learned as a girl…

_God grant me the serenity__  
__to accept the things I cannot change;__  
__courage to change the things I can;__  
__and wisdom to know the difference._

Obviously, her situation was something that she couldn't change. Why bother? She might as well enjoy the alcohol while it lasted. Her encounter with Anderson on the Presidium hadn't made things any better, anyhow.

* * *

"_Dammit, Anderson, half a colony is gone! They're probably dead! How—"_

"_What would you have had me do, Williams?" demanded Anderson. "We couldn't divert valuable resources to a colony in the middle of the Terminus without knowing for sure if the threat was genuine! The Alliance is already stretched thin as it is."_

"_You mean by sending your 'resources' into pointless turf wars with washed-up pirates and slavers? What does that accomplish? Nothing! That platoon on Commander Walsh's ship could have guarded Horizon and saved a lot more people! What are you trying to do, Anderson, run us all into the ground? What if they come for colonies in the Skyllian Verge? Will the Alliance simply stand by and watch then?"_

"_Chief Williams, to the best of our knowledge there is no chance that a Collector attack will hit a colony in the Skyllian Verge," Udina scoffed. _

"_That's not the damn point!" Ashley was fuming. "There could be! Has it ever occurred to you that maybe they're building up the strength to take a colony like Elysium?"_

"_We'll address the problem if it becomes plausible," snarked Udina. _

"_Was that your mentality when Shepard warned you about Saren?" Ashley said quietly._

_There was a deadly silence. Civilizations rose and fell in the time it took for someone to finally speak. When Anderson did, his words, quiet as they were, crashed down on her like a sledgehammer._

"_Get out of my office, Chief Williams," he said. His voice was soft and vicious. "Don't make me court-martial you for insubordination."_

_Ashley ground her teeth and turned her heel, making a point to give Udina a death stare. She pretended not to notice Anderson slump down in his desk and bury his face in his hands._

It wasn't to say that she didn't understand, because she did. Udina was an asshole, and Anderson was the human Councillor as well as Rear Admiral to the Systems Alliance. There was enough pressure on him to make an average man crack like an egg. With a re-run of the Cold War that was their feud with the Batarian Hegemony, growing tension between him and the Council, and the disappearing colonies, and the one million other burdens that came with his job, her confrontation must seem like an unnecessary headache. What time did he have to look after one grunt? It had been two years. She should have healed by now, but she was far from it. Shepard's resurfacing on Horizon had taken the tender stitches from her deep cuts and ripped them open, so that they were gaping and bleeding and scarcely recognizable.

She didn't understand. Ashley was a good person; she had sinned in her life but she always made an effort to compensate for her sins. She had killed, but they had all been bad people. Where in her life had God seen fit to make things so hard for her?

She thought back to something an asari pilot had told her once, during one of her tours before meeting Shepard.

"_Bad things happen to anyone, even good people," she'd remarked, not looking up from her work. "I think the only people I've ever met who didn't understand that were humans. Turians, too, but mostly humans."_

She'd understood, at least a little. When her father had died, she'd realized what the pilot had meant. Meeting Garrus, and learning about his teen-angsty, daddy-issue filled backstory, was more. Losing Shepard, though…that was incomprehensible.

Her grief, her inability to move on, was like the salt on the wound. It would have been better if she could've just moved on. Two years ago, she knew that she would have. But somehow, she was wrong in her assessment of herself. And Ash _hated_ being wrong. Especially about herself.

She downed another shot of whiskey. There was something to be said about drinking and being merry, after all.

* * *

**A/N: Short chapter was short, and I apologize. Chapter 15 will be up in a matter of days.**


	15. Down On My Head

_I never thought I would wake up in bed__  
__watching the world coming down on my head__  
__I'd sleep like a dog if you would never have said,__  
__this is the world coming down on your head__  
__You gave it to me I remember it read,__  
__you've got the world coming down on your head__  
__There's nothing to fight for it's already dead__  
__and this is the world coming down on my head_

_When will it all end__  
__One of you moves the others follow you__  
_

15: Down On My Head

The shrink introduced himself as Dr. Ted Chandrasekhar, a long name for a man of his caliber. He was a small, balding man in a slightly rumpled gray suit, wearing a pair of horn-rimmed glasses which Ash thought were more for show than anything else. He had a high, reedy voice, and every few seconds he'd furrow his little brow, nod, and write something down on his omni-tool. They hadn't even started talking yet.

It was standard procedure to undergo a psych evaluation after a potentially traumatizing event. In Ashley's case, it was Horizon. The thing was, the incident hadn't left her as shaken as it had left her with a bitter sense of resentment. Right off the bat she could have counted a thousand and more things that could have been done to defend the colony. After the fact, she could have thought of twenty times as many. The idiocy of it all was infuriating. There was so much they could have done, should have done, that didn't happen. It made her want to strangle someone.

Here she was, sitting across from a shrink for a psych evaluation and, oddly enough, a polygraph. The first was to make sure she was fit for duty. The second was…well, it was a polygraph. The fact that it was there didn't brighten her odds of continuing to serve any longer.

There was another name for these things. They weren't polygraphs _per se_, at least not in the same sense as the primitive lie detectors that'd been used in the twentieth century. For humans, old labels died hard, but they were a turian invention, originally invented to weed out treasonous leaks in their own ranks. Now, the technology was used by almost all space-faring species.

She slipped the small white plastic on her finger, tapping her foot irritably on the carpet as a stammering private hooked her up to a machine. Finally, they were ready.

"Okay, Gunny, let's start, shall we? When you're ready."

Ash nodded. She already didn't like this.

"To start, tell me a lie."

"A lie?" she echoed.

"Just tell me a lie," the doctor said. "Anything will do."

"Uhm…" She thought for a moment. What did he want her to say? Any lie? Something unbelievable, or a little white lie? She frowned, giving it her best shot. "I killed Elvis Presley."

The shrink raised his eyebrows and wrote this down, his fingers tapping madly at the keyboard of his omni-tool.

"Let's start simple. Is your name Ashley Madeline Williams?"

"Yes."

"Are you twenty-five years old?"

"Yes."

"Do you have three sisters?"

"Yes."

"Are you a Gunnery Chief in the Alliance Navy?"

"Of course I am, it's in the file."

"Just answer yes or no, Miss Williams."

She rolled her eyes. The shrink took note of this. _Tap-tap-tap._ "Yes."

"Did you serve at Eden Prime until the attack in 2183?"

"Yes."

"Were you recruited by Lieutenant Commander Shepard after the attack?"

"Yes."

"Do you feel that you owe him your life?"

Ash froze.

At the time, it sure did feel like it. But whatever debt that she might owe him, life-wise, was erased when he died and left her as a train wreck in the Alliance Navy. In her book, that made them even. Besides, he was…but that was not entirely true.

There was a long pause. Ash lookeded at the shrink. He was staring intently at the display, waiting for an answer. Finally, she found her tongue.

"No."

He nodded. "Do you have romantic feelings for Commander Shepard?"

"No." It bothered her that he said "_do_" instead of "_did_."

"Do you respect Commander Shepard?"

"Yes."

Another note. The faint tapping sound fell on her ears like gunshots. "Do you feel that the Alliance handled his death poorly?"

"Yes."

"Do you think your superiors made a mistake in sending you back into duty?"

"I think you should take more time choosing who should run a ship," she said acidly, thinking of Commander Walsh.

"Just say yes or no, Miss Williams."

"No."

"Do you think you know better than your superiors, Chief Williams?"

Another pause. Ash looked at the shrink again. He was typing madly, his eyes on the monitor. It was hard to think straight.

"No."

There was a long silence as he wrote this down. Finally, he flashed a dry smile.

"Thank you, Gunny. Dismissed."

"What about my inter—"

"Dismissed, Gunny."

Ash frowned. She left, fuming.

When she arrived at her apartment, Ash checked to see that she was alone before throwing herself down in a corner. Tears pricked at her eyes, tears of fury and grief and indignity. Away from the condescending gaze of the doctor, she felt like a person again, but only a little. He might as well have been laughing in her face. She might as well have been a rag doll. Her career must be over now. Not even a psych evaluation…just a polygraph. Did they think she was some sort of traitor? Did they think she was insane?

The better question would be, _why in God's name had nobody come up with a better lie detector than the polygraph in one hundred plus years?_

Ashley laughed, amazed by the idiocy of the question. What the hell was that about? Why did she care? It was something that the old Ashley would have asked. But now there was only bitter apathy. If she was lucky she would never have to take one again.

When she returned home the indignity of the polygraph had not faded.

It had been three days since that encounter in Steele's apartment, and she hadn't returned any of his calls since. She felt so guilty, like she couldn't look him in the eye. How could she? There was really no real way to tell someone that she'd been pining over a dead guy for almost two years. And that he wasn't really dead, but brought back to life and working for Cerberus. That alone would get her another trip to the shrink's, she thought acidly. But what could she do? He was a good guy and he deserved the truth, but she couldn't bring herself to let him have it. She couldn't quit Shepard. Even after all this time.

* * *

_"I love you, Ashley. Never forget that."_

_His breath was warm on her ear. She was content, snuggled up in his embrace in the captain's cabin. It wasn't the most luxurious of cabins, but it was enough for them. A bed, privacy, and some good wine. It was all she needed._

_His fingers drifted down her arm and she shivered a little. "We're not supposed to be here," she remarked._

_"I know," he said with a shrug. "But we weren't supposed to stop Saren, either. I think we've deserved a bit of leeway."_

_She chuckled. "Tell that to Hackett."_

_"If anything, I'm sure he'll just want to join in."_

_Ashley rolled her eyes. "Sorry, but I'm not down for that."_

_He dropped his voice so it was low and husky. "Are you sure?" he breathed. "I can always call Kaidan in here if you want…"_

_She giggled and lightly pushed him. "You pig."_

_"I'm a man, Ashley. A big, strong, man. I have my needs."_

_"You're gross."_

_He grinned. "But that's why you love me."_

_She smiled then, tucking her head into his chest. "Yeah."_

_Then the cabin shook. Shepard was on his feet in an instant. "What the hell…"_

_Ash grumbled. "Probably just some sort of debris," she said. "I think we're—"_

_And then a new voice joined the conversation, and her world was shattered forever._

"Brace for evasive maneuvers!"

* * *

_I love you, Ashley. Never forget that._

Those words might as well have been stamped to the back of her eyelids.

The words seemed so far away now, but Ashley had never forgotten. Not for two years. She didn't know if she would ever forget. She didn't want to.

The omni-tool pinged in the silence. Ashley looked down, already knowing what it was before she saw the name on the screen. Brendan Steele.

She owed him an apology, she knew. But what was she supposed to tell him, that she was still in love with a man who was, to the Alliance, dead? Dead to the world? Dead to _her_? She didn't know if she wanted to face him with the truth, or with anything. Her finger hovered on the "delete" key. But then she changed her mind and instead selected "listen".

"Hey, Ash." Steele's dapper Australian accent cut through the silence like a knife. "I know you probably don't want to talk to me right now, but I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I'm sorry about last night...I guess I just came on too strong. Look, if you want to talk, you know where to find me. See you later, yeah?"

The message ended. Ash shut off her omni-tool, sighing and staring off into the distance. God dammit. She didn't know if she wanted to deal with any of it anymore.

* * *

_**Shepard**_

"Kolyat!"

It was impulse, really, that made Shepard draw his gun. Thane's son or not, this was a hostage situation. He aimed it at the younger drell, trying to make himself look like he meant business. Something told him that the look wasn't quite achieved. But Thane's son was no hardened criminal, and he balked at the sight of Shepard's weapon.

The teal-skinned alien's eyes narrowed. "You," he said quietly. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"No," Thane said quietly.

"Now?" His voice rose in anger. "Now you show up?"

"There were circumstances beyond my control," he said. "I'm sorry."

_Dead—comatose—I couldn't contact anyone—_

"You left me alone for fifteen years!" cried Kolyat. "You think 'sorry' is going to cut it?"

Against his will, Shepard found himself flashing back to Horizon.

—_two years—how could you put me through that?_

"I'm sorry," Thane said again. "It was for your own good."

_I didn't want to hurt you—_

"Leaving me to rot on Kahje was not for my own good!" Kolyat aimed the gun at his father now; Shepard saw that his hands were shaking.

"What did you want me to do?" Thane's voice remained even, but Shepard could tell that he was barely holding in decades of pent-up emotion. "Take you with me?"

Tears glistened in Kolyat's eyes. "Why didn't you?"

"I—" He stopped, as though unsure of what to say. "I went after them," he said quietly. "Your mother's killers. I hunted them down. Made them suffer. I thought it would be justice."

There was a shivering silence. Kolyat dropped the gun back to his hostage, who, surprisingly, hadn't moved. "You killed them," he said finally. "I shouldn't have been surprised."

"Kolyat—"

"I read your files!" he snapped. "Isn't that what you do? Kill people? Is that what you're doing now? Killing people? What makes you think I can't follow in your footsteps?"

"I was six when they started to train me," Thane informed him gravely. "I didn't know any better. Your mother—Irikah—woke me from my battle sleep."

"Then why weren't you there when she _died_?"

"It—" Again, the pause. "It was my fault. They killed her to get to me."

"What—?"

"I sent you away to protect you," he continued. "But I guess it didn't work the way I planned."

"Yeah, I'll say," Kolyat snarked. His voice cracked. "Why? Why did you show up now?"

_It took you two years to show up—_

Thane seemed at a loss for words. Shepard chipped in, unsure of whether or not it was his place to.

"He's dying, Kolyat," he said. "Thane wants to put things right before he goes."

"So I was your bucket list," Kolyat remarked, mostly to himself. "Figures."

"Kolyat—" That was Thane again. "If there was any other way…"

He gave his father a grudging look. "What will you do now?"

Shepard shrugged. "It depends," he said. "If you choose to follow through with your job and try to escape, you'll probably spend a long time in prison. If you come with us, well…I can help you. Thane and I will help you."

"What about him?" Kolyat nodded at the hostage.

Shepard stared at him for a while, thinking. The turian's eyes pleaded with him. The merciful side of Shepard wondered if he should spare him and be the bigger man, but then he thought back to what he'd intended to do with the Council.

"I guess that's easy," he said. Shepard raised the gun and fired a round into the politician's head.

Kolyat stumbled back, looking sick to his stomach. "Oh my gods…"

"He was a witness," he rationalized. "A racist and a liar, too. The world is better off without him."

"For some, I suppose," Thane remarked.

Caleb holstered the gun. "Come on, Kolyat. Let's get you out of here."

Thane arched an eyebrow. "I suppose you have an explanation for the dead body on the floor?"

"Uhh..." Shepard scratched his chin. Then he took the gun out of its holster, wiped it down, and stuffed it in Talid's hand. "Done."

Thane could only facepalm.

* * *

When they came outside, C-Sec was waiting for them. Captain Bailey pointed his gun at Kolyat. "What the hell happened in there?" he demanded.

Thane's eyes flicked amusedly to Shepard. He gave a nervous grin.

"Well…Talid kind of killed himself," he explained. "I guess he was overcome with guilt. We tried to stop him, but…" He pantomimed a gun. "_Boom._"

Bailey raised an eyebrow. "Really?" His eyes searched Thane's face, then Kolyat's.

"Do you have anything else to go on?" He cracked a smile.

Bailey stared at him for the longest time. "I guess not," he said finally.

"And Kolyat gets no charges against him, right?"

"Erm—well—I mean—"

"Thanks," Shepard said brightly. "Glad to be of service, Captain."

The Captain of C-Sec stared, dumfounded, after the commander and his three companions. A Spectre, a known assassin, the assassin's son, and Archangel all at the same crime scene? It was highly suspect, but Bailey decided to leave it alone. He figured he had bigger things to worry about in his precinct.

* * *

**A/N: Double update? From me? What? I know, quite unheard of, but this fic has been gathering dust for long enough. Thanks so much to the people who are still reading, it means a lot.**

**By the way, the polygraph...I can't think of another name. It's definitely going to raise some eyebrows, I know, but...it's more of a symbol than anything else.**


	16. Shrink the World

_A life in love, a picture of  
A place I'm nowhere near  
A bleeding heart, a good head start  
To anywhere but here  
Just let me out, please let me out  
Before I turn into  
A box of things reminding me how much I'm missing you_

16: Shrink the World

"Can you hear me?"

Shepard waited anxiously for the geth's answer. He still wasnt entirely convinced that this wasnt some sort of crazy dream. A geth, an actual freaking geth on his ship—and he was talking to it.

Shepard was flabbergasted when the thing flexed its plates slightly and said, in a mechanical voice, "Yes."

"Are you going to attack me?" he asked apprehensively.

The geth sized him up. "No."

"Back on the Reaper, you said my name," he said. "Do you know me?"

"We know of you."

"Have we met?"

"We have never met."

"Not us. But I've fought other geth."

"We are all geth, and we have not met you."

Shepard was puzzled. "I thought you geth had some sort of home-share system going on. How do you know me?"

"Shepard. Commander. Alliance. Human. Fought Saren. Fought heretics. Killed Old Machine."

"Heretics?"

"Those that broke away from us," it answered. "They chose to allow the Old Machines to build their own future. They are no longer part of us."

"Oh," Shepard said flatly. "So, like the Great Schism of the geth?"

There was silence as the geth processed this. "Great Schism. 1378. Humans divided by two opposing leaders representing the same goal. We do not understand how this pertains to the conversation."

"Uh…" Shepard scratched his chin, wondering if this was actually real. "Okay, then…forget I said that. What were you doing aboard the Reaper?"

"We were studying the Old Machine to protect our future."

"So…you aren't allied with the Reapers, is that what you're saying?"

"We oppose the heretics," it replied. "We oppose the Old Machines. Shepard-Commander opposes the heretics. Shepard-Commander opposes the Old Machines. Cooperation furthers mutual goals."

"What's this, an olive branch?" he asked suspiciously. "I don't know how confident I am in joining forces with a talking geth, sorry."

The geth's flaps fluttered a little. "Yes."

"What do you mean, 'yes'?"

"Olive branch. Human symbol of peace and cooperation. We wish to integrate into Normandy."

"You can't be serious."

"We do not understand the question."

He sighed. "Are you asking to join us?"

"Yes."

"Well…" Shepard scrutinized the machine long and hard. Tali was going to flip, he realized, if he let the geth work with them. But what other alternative was there? If he left the thing to its own devices, it might hack into the Normandy's systems and blow them all out an airlock, hijacking the ship to bring it back to its geth friends. And possibly hook up with EDI. He shuddered at the thought. What was the lesser of two evils, working with a seemingly friendly (or at least, non-hostile) geth, or Tali's wrath, which could be alleviated with a hug and a batch of yummy nutritional paste?

Keep your friends close, and you enemies closer.

Finally, he reached a decision. Praying that he was doing the right thing, Shepard sighed. "What should I call you, then?"

"Geth."

He scoffed. "No, I mean you. Specifically."

"We are all geth."

"You can't be serious. Okay…what is the individual in front of me called?"

"There is no individual. We are geth."

Caleb frowned. "I should give you a name," he remarked. "EDI, any ideas?"

The blue orb flickered into view. "My name is Legion, for we are many."

"Legion?" he echoed. "Well, okay."

"Christian Bible," the geth said. "Gospel of Mark, chapter five, verse nine. We accept this as an appropriate metaphor. We will integrate into Normandy."

"Uh…great," he said awkwardly. "Welcome aboard…Legion… I guess…"

He awkwardly held out his hand. Legion stared at it, seeming confused, and Shepard almost took it back when it reached out with a three-fingered paw and gingerly took his five.

I must be going insane, Shepard thought. First Reapers, then death, and now this? Sounds like prime videogame material to me.

"Ashley!" Sarah was surprised to hear from her sister. "I wasn't expecting to hear from you! How have you been?"

"Not so great," she muttered. Sarah frowned, caught off-guard by her sister's despondent disposition.

"Hey, Ash, what's up?"

There was silence on the other end. Ash took a moment to collect her thoughts.

"How do you stand it?"

"What? What do you mean?" asked Sarah. "Ashley—"

"How do you live with the stigma of the name 'Williams'?" she said. "I know I can't. Not much longer."

"What do you mean?"

Ash looked away. "Forget it."

"What happened?" demanded Sarah, her voice shrill. "Can't you just tell me?"

"Oh, nothing!" cried Ashley. "Just I watched my ship get torn apart by an unknown enemy with my commander still inside. It's just that I've been swept under the rug for years and years and now that I've gone and done something that matters and nobody cares. It's not that I was almost abducted by some freaky pseudo-alien-bug drones and watched half a colony get kidnapped. Nothing to do with the fact that I went through a polygraph—a polygraph, Sarah—and was put on leave indefinitely! It's nothing to do with the face that they accused me for fucking the aforementioned commander! Or that I've been deemed psychologically unfit for duty. But other than that, not much, Sarah. What about you?"

Sarah was silent for a while, taking all this in. Finally, she just shook her head.

"Jesus, Ashley," she said softly. "What happened to you?"

"I just told you."

"I know, but…" Sarah sighed. "I don't know what to say."

"It's fine," Ash said resignedly. "I just need to vent."

"Hey, if you need a place to vent…you can come home for a bit. Collect your thoughts. You know. Relax."

She shrugged, reluctantly considering the thought. "I—maybe." Ash sighed. "I have to go somewhere, though."

"Where?" demanded Sarah. "Another classified mission?"

When Ash didn't respond, she went on. "You disappeared," She said. There was an accusatory edge to her voice.

"Well, I'm back now," Ash replied.

"That's not the point." Her sister crossed her arms. "You fell off the grid for a year and a half, Ashley! And then I get these letters from some Admiral about you getting into fights, getting drunk…what happened? What happened to not letting anything between us and the line of duty?"

"What do you mean, 'what happened'?" she snapped.

"I wanna know why you don't give a shit anymore."

"Of course, I give a shit," she retorted. "I just—"

"Is this because of Shepard?" she asked, her voice softer.

"I—" Ash broke off. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't play games, Ash. I know you were involved with him."

Ash's mouth went dry. She was speechless, staring furiously at her sister's disapproving face in the monitor. She lost her tongue, then found it again.

"How did you know?"

"Anderson told me. It wasn't hard to see," Sarah said quietly. "When you send me messages now, I wonder if you're contemplating suicide. When you go out in the field, I wonder if you're running into the crossfire. You think you're the only one who ever lost someone? People die, Ashley. Shepard died. You're alive, and you'd better start acting like it. Pull yourself together, Ash. This isn't a movie. He's not coming back and you have to accept that."

"You don't understand," Ash said coolly.

"What don't I understand?" Sarah demanded. "I understand that you've been getting into fights. That they gave you a Veracity Detector. You're not over Shepard, after two years, yeah, as if that's hard to understand at all!"

"He's not dead!" she shouted. "I saw him on Horizon! He's been speaking with Anderson! He met with the Council! He isn't dead, Sarah!"

Sarah's face was unreadable. She stared at the camera, like she was trying to catch her sister's eye, and then she dropped the bomb.

"You're insane, Ashley," she said coldly. "Get your shit together. You've had two years to move on, and now it's just pathetic. Get your shit together. I don't even want to know what Dad would say if he were here."

"Sarah—"

She cut the channel.

Ashley stared at the blank screen for a moment. Then she swore and turned off the monitor. She headed to the kitchen and picked up a sponge, started doing dishes for the first time in days. She needed something to keep her hands busy.

Sarah was right, of course. Of course she was right. And Ashley needed to pull herself together. But what could she do? Start living? She couldn't very well occupy herself with soldier-ing. She was probably going to be discharged. She was chained to a desk as it was. She'd done all she could. She was out of options.

"Ashley, you done fucked up real good," she said out loud. Nobody heard her. Nobody cared.

**A/N: If you had your suspicions that this is actually chapter 16 again, just reposted, well, you are right.**

**This story—well, everything I've written, really—has been on hiatus for over a year. With Yellowcard's new album, I was planning on writing a few more chapters and closing out this story, but I realized that I painted myself into a corner with everything that I've done to it. This is in part due to speed-writing all my chapters and not thinking much of the plot until it was too late. Overall, I'm not satisfied with what I've written, so I'm going to terminate this story and start over. **

**That being said, anticipate an overhaul of Shepley's story very, very soon. I feel like an underrated pairing like this really does deserve more attention and respect than what I've given it, and I intend to do just that. Stay posted! **


End file.
